A Rose By Any Other Name
by nicolegesq
Summary: A Nick romance that begins during his time in the Union Army, although it will go beyond that time and place.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Her throat felt dry as she swallowed hard, trying to raise the courage she'd need to go out to his ranch. His ranch. Well, his family's ranch. She shivered at the thought of it. _Stop stalling_, she told herself. You should have done this years ago, but at least you're here in Stockton now. Take it as a sign and go on out there. Drawing herself tall, she stepped out on to the sidewalk and headed for the livery. Just down the block, the man had told her, she could rent a nice buggy, then added, "Barkley Ranch? Well, yes Ma'am, most everyone around these parts knows where it is. Depending what you need, though, Mr. Jarrod Barkley, the lawyer, his office is here in town. Just down the street as a matter of fact."

She smiled and nodded, wondering if the lawyer might be in town. Might not need quite so much courage to get to an office here in town. But, no. And, really, she needed to talk to his mother and father anyway. That's the way it should be. Glancing down the block, she began to cross the street, fixing her gaze on the livery stable. She was halfway across when she saw him coming out of the general store, talking animatedly with a blond haired man, the two obviously joking about something. She froze as her mind struggled to consider the possibility. It looked like him, but it couldn't be, she told herself. But it was. He was older but the broad gestures were still there, the grin was the same, and then there was the slightest movement. Some might not have even noticed it, but when he dusted off his hat, then swept the renegade lock of black hair back before he fixed the hat firmly to his head, she had no doubt. It was him, had to be. Yet still she stood there, not moving, her mind insisting that it couldn't be him, her lungs forgetting how to breathe even as her heart began to sing. And suddenly, there were flashes of movement around her, a woman screaming, and the two men turned and stared at her and even from down the street, she saw the recognition in his eyes and saw his face blanch just before she realized the stagecoach was looming toward her.

Nick and Heath both turned at the sound of the yelling and they stood there, unable to do anything to help the young woman as the stage headed straight for her, too far away to help but close enough to see the expression on her face. But only one of the two men understood that she was in a state of shock and confusion that had nothing to do with the approaching stage and everything to do with seeing Nick Barkley.

Nick stared, his heart stopping at the very sight of her. It had been eight, no, nine years since he'd seen her but he had never forgotten her. He still remembered the deep blue of her eyes, the dark hair that felt like silk between his fingers. He remembered the soft lilt her voice could have when she was happy, and the edge that it could get when she was angered. He remembered the calm she could show in the most desperate situations, and the passion she could display when things were calm. And he remembered the way, then as now, the sight of her could overwhelm his being, the taste of her kisses, the smell of her skin, the sound of her whispering in his ears, and the feel of her in his arms could cause everything else in the world to cease to exist. He remembered everything.

Her eyes bore into his and he stared back, his own eyes reflecting the same level of confusion as was in hers but that was quickly replaced by a look of horror as he realized the stage was upon her. He bolted toward her, fighting to get to her, not even realizing it when his feet left the ground as Heath wrapped his arms around his older brother, holding him back from path of the stage.

Moments later, they watched for the briefest of moments as the dust settled around her body lying in the street. She groaned as pain swept through her, and coughed as the dirt entered her lungs.

Nick pulled out of his brother's grasp and raced across the street, dropping to his knees and gathering her body in his arms. "It's Nick, sweetheart. Look at me, open your eyes," he growled, the smallest amount of relief washing over him as her eyes fluttered open.

She drew in a shuddered breath and her gaze met his, only for her to shrink away from him, closing her eyes hard. "It can't be," she whispered, her voice breaking as she opened her eyes to look back up at him, her hands shaking as she reached up to touch his face. The anguish in her voice was undeniable. "They told me you were dead. You were on the casualty list, killed in action."

His heart ached as the pain in her voice reached his core. "What? No," he insisted, shaking his head, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Her eyes misted over as a look of hope crossed her face. "I'm guessing they were wrong."

He shared a wry smile with her as he pulled her tightly to him, his voice raspy as he whispered into her hair, "As wrong as the reports of your death."

(Ah yes, assume holes in the Barkley time space continuum and just go with the dates as presented, a la BV style.)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

_12 Years earlier, Fall 1862, Outside Benton's Crossing_

Nick held up his hand to quiet and stop his men, taking a cautious step to look around a tree. Confirming that there didn't seem to be any sign of movement from the shack, he moved silently through the swamp, careful to find firm footing with every step. At the sound of the dog's baying, he cursed their rotten luck. The last thing they needed was to lose the element of surprise. After four days in the swamp, his men were tired, hungry and ready to be back on the Union side of the line but he was willing to settle for a few hours rest and maybe a night's sleep on a spot of dry land. Ducking back behind the tree, he debated whether to throw the dog some of the little rations they had, hoping it would provide enough of a diversion to let them get that much closer to the shack. Watching through the stand of palmetto, he squatted down, careful to keep his butt out the water, his eyes fixed on the door when it swung open. He froze and stared back at the ramshackle building, the beads of sweat that were rolling down his face and back not even registering with him any more. A woman stood in the doorway, her eyes cutting this way and that as she surveyed the swamp. She stepped boldly out onto the porch, the rifle comfortable in her hands as she looked right and left. Leaning down, she pet the dog, scratching him behind an ear before she stepped back out of view, slamming the door behind her.

_One woman alone. Surely if there were a man with her, he would have come out instead. But even if she was alone, she sure looked like she knew what she was doing with the rifle._ Nick wasn't eager to pull a gun on a woman, it went against everything he'd been taught, but when behind enemy lines like this, you didn't have much choice. Too many good men he knew from the beginning of the war had trusted their lives to someone who didn't seem to be a risk and had lost their lives to that misplaced trust. Glancing back at his men, he knew he had to get some rest for them, if only for a little while, and this looked to be the place. Surely she would have some water, and maybe they could scrounge up some provisions that he and his men so desperately needed. Anything other than the hard tack that they had been surviving on the last couple of days. Hefting his carbine over his shoulder, he reached into his saddle bag, pulling out a piece of jerky, throwing it to the far end of the clearing and he watched, satisfied as the dog bounded off the porch and beyond the edge of the trees, off in the direction of the noise of the jerky hitting the underbrush. Nick pulled his revolver from its holster and carefully cocked it, ready to use it if need be, certainly ready to threaten the woman, hoping that he could use the least amount of force necessary. He motioned to his men to move left and right, then he glided closer, finally close enough to peer in through a crack in the curtains, seeing only the young woman smoothing the tablecloth and an older man who was dropping into a rocking chair. Easing his way up the steps, he quietly held the handle for the door, then, motioning to the other men, he barreled into the cabin with his revolver leveled, his eyes meeting hers as one of his men immediately followed into the small building. "Keep your hands where I can see 'em," he ordered, his eyes and voice cold. "We're not looking to hurt anyone."

He was surprised at the calm acceptance in her eyes, not the slightest bit of surprise showing on her face. "Pointing a gun at my head, you could have fooled me," she answered, her voice soft.

"Sorry, Miss, but I've learned you can't be too careful."

"And your men?" she asked, tilting her head toward the door. "A couple of them looked desperate."

Nick stared at her, realizing she must have seen them outside, part of him relieved that he hadn't faced a rifle pointed at him when he entered, the other part wondering why not, his tone warming the slightest bit even as he kept his gun cocked and ready. "My men follow my lead," he said as he stepped to the side, checking the couple of rooms that made up the cabin. His careful eye took in every detail – the cabin was neat, some few examples of creature comforts, the quilt at the end of the bed, curtains still at the window, but he had to guess that his was not the first raiding party to come through the area. Turning back to the pair, _Father and daughter? Maybe, maybe not_, he knew they were both watching his every action. It wouldn't have surprised him if they were nervous and suspicious; in these circumstances, that was normal. What bothered him most was the relative calm they both seemed to project.

Almost as if she were reading his mind, she offered, "There's not much. Some fresh bread in the pie safe. You're welcome to it, although," she added, a touch of sarcasm in her voice, "I don't suppose that there's much I could do to stop you. Other than that . . . you . . . you Yankees have been through already," she added with a touch of disdain.

"Yes, Ma'am," Nick acknowledged, stepping over to the pie safe, glancing in at the several loaves. He turned back to her, his eyes studying hers. "That's an awful lot of bread for two people."

She shrugged her shoulders. "It's far too hot out and it uses too much wood to bake every day." She stared back at him. "Take it and go," she challenged him.

"You seem in an awful hurry for us to leave."

"Why is that a surprise?" she asked, shifting her stance as her hands formed into fists and she crossed her arms in front of herself. "Like I said, I don't know about your men and the longer you're here . . . well, after all, it's not like you were invited. You'll excuse me if I don't offer you the standard southern hospitality."

Nick fought back a smile. Under other circumstances, this would be a girl who would pique his interests. She was pretty, her clothes simple, but still showed off what he would describe as a very nice figure. Chocolate brown hair, striking blue eyes, she even looked about his age. As it was, he found himself admiring her spunk. "Cornell," Nick said to the man who had come through the door with him, "take the bread in the pie safe and give it to the men. All except one loaf, we'll leave them that," he added, garnering a thankful nod from her in response, but he watched her jaw tighten as the soldier gathered up the loaves and carried them out the door. The number of loaves nagged at Nick. There would be plenty for his men and the woman and the old man, almost as if she were planning on feeding several mouths. His eyes narrowed as he continued to stare at her. "Cornell," he barked, "tell the men to look for signs of anyone else around."

Cornell looked back in from the porch. "The men are already checking in the woods, Sergeant."

Nick tilted his head to one side, studying the woman carefully, looking deep into her dark blue eyes, trying to discern whether she had, in fact, steeled herself at the suggestion of them checking the woods. "Tell them to check and check again. And tell them that we may be settling in for the night." He narrowed his eyes, certain that he had noticed the slightest change in her posture but he nonetheless shifted his weapon to seem less threatening. "Miss, my men are tired and we need a place to rest for –" He quieted, his eyes darting about, certain he had heard something, a muffled noise. He listened intently, his eyes questioning hers when a low moan seemed to come from beneath them. Immediately, he raised his gun, all of his senses alert as his eyes once again darted around the room, looking for a hiding place. He cast a quick glance to the old man, Nick's glare warning him to stay where he was. He looked back to the woman, his eyes questioning hers.

He watched her grimace and shake her head. "Drat it all," she muttered, then she looked Nick square in the eye. "We're a station on the underground railroad," she stated calmly, as if she were a shop girl telling him they would get his order together. She took two long strides to the table in the middle of the room. "Don't shoot anyone," she ordered, then she pushed the table hard, moving it to one side. She threw another look at Nick, then added, her voice pleading, "Just wait," and she leaned over and pulled at a knot hole in the floor, pulling back a hidden trap door.

Nick cocked and pointed his gun down into the opening. In spite of her comment, he was fully prepared to see grown men, Confederates, hiding out, and so he was shocked when he found himself looking into the faces of a woman and several children. Dark faces all. "How in Blazes?" he demanded.

"I'll thank you not to curse in front of the children," the young woman said primly. "Bessie's in labor, can you help me get her out?" she asked even as she moved forward, pulling the woman up, the older children in the hole pushing up from below. "Surely you've heard of the underground railroad," she insisted. Stunned, Nick hesitated for a moment but then holstered his gun and hurried to the pregnant woman's side, taking the moaning, very round woman by the waist and helping her to stand, noticing out of the corner of his eye as the old man who, up to that point had been placidly sitting in a chair, suddenly sprang to life, pulling child after child from the hole in the floor.

"Viola," the elderly gentleman asked, "what do you want me to do?"

Nick stared at her, Viola, the man called her, as she took the woman's other side and led the way into the next room, calling back over her shoulder, "Uncle Jack, settle the children down in the parlor, please." She turned her attention to Nick. "Sergeant, you don't happen to have a doctor or medic with you by any chance?"

"No, Ma'am, I'm sorry to say."

"What about whiskey?"

"That I'd have."

"Could you get it for me?" she asked as she hurried about the room, pulling supplies seemingly out of thin air - sheets, a pan for water. "And if you could keep your men away from the house. We find it best if as few people as possible know the details of what we do here. And try to keep them from killing the cow or the chickens, we need the milk and eggs."

"Milk and eggs?" Nick demanded, his voice cracking. "You have a cow out here?"

She glanced up at him with a grin, her blue eyes twinkling. "Just for the milk. The chickens give the eggs." She stared at him for a moment, amused that she had stunned this man who seemed so self-assured just moments before. "Sergeant, the whiskey if you would," she added calmly before turning back to the bedside.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Nick stepped outside, shaking his head, thinking this was the last thing he expected to find. He understood why the woman wanted to keep her secrets. It was dangerous enough for him and his men to be behind enemy lines, but a young woman and an old man operating a stop on the Underground Railroad this deep in the South . . . . He shuddered to think what would happen to them if anyone found out. If he and his men were caught, they would be prisoners of war. The slave woman and her children would be sent back to their owners, likely a brutal reception at best. But the old man would be lynched, and the woman, barely more than a girl. . . . His stomach turned at the thought of what might befall her.

Striding quickly to his men who were eagerly eating the loaves of bread, he issued orders for guards to be posted, the woods searched with a particular eye for the chickens and cow but, as Viola had asked, he ordered that nothing was to be killed. The last order brought an odd look from his hungry men but, in Nick's mind, this girl and her uncle were on the same side as they were and, what's more, he couldn't abide taking food from children who looked like they had skipped many a meal more than his men. And something told him that she might have more food hidden around than she had let on. Pulling the whiskey bottle from his saddle bags, he threw his men one last look, barking out, "Nobody comes in the cabin. And that's an order, " he charged, not seeing the looks exchanged by a couple of his men as he hurried back inside.

Crossing the cabin with his long paces, he barely acknowledged the older man and young children, going straight to the bedroom door, rapping on it sharply.

Viola yanked open the door and grabbed Nick by his lapels, pulling him into the room. "I need your help here," she said, brooking no argument as she took the whiskey from him, pouring some of it into a basin.

Nick glanced over to the woman lying on the bed, her face contorted as another pain hit her. "Oh, Jesus," he heard her moan.

"Help? With what?" he barked.

The young woman stepped up toe to toe with him and grabbed him by his jacket once again, pulling him to her, causing Nick to lean down so his face was mere inches from hers. "Listen to me," Viola hissed, her words barely loud enough for Nick to hear over the drone of Bessie's moaning. "This is an area of life where I have no experience. None. Understand?"

"You want me to help with this? Oh, no! I don't think – " Nick stammered.

She shrugged off his objections. "I was never even home when the cat had kittens! Uncle Jack's not going to be any better off and you at least seem to have a level head. I'm hoping you know your way around – " She stopped in mid sentence, the color rushing to her cheeks, as she found little comfort in his stuttered, awkward response, any embarrassment shared pushed aside by the sounds from the woman on the bed. They both turned to look at the laboring woman then looked back to each other. Nick looked down at Viola and, looking at her closely, realized that she was probably younger than he originally thought. He swallowed hard as a wave of panic washed over him as he realized he just might have more experience in this area than she did. When Viola saw the look of fear that flitted in Nick's eyes, she considered asking about the other men with him, but shook her head and pointed to the bed. "Just . . . hold her hand," she urged, nodding to him as he stripped off his gloves and saber and laid those on a bedside table.

The labor seemed hard to the two novices who from time to time would share a worried glance across the bed, neither one certain if this was as things should happen, the two just knowing what was happening.

"Oh, sweet Jesus, help me," Bessie groaned, "It's time. It's time."

Viola sat at the foot of the bed and drew in a slow breath, then lifted the hem of Bessie's dress, her eyes rising back to meet Nick's. The thought occurred to Nick that he hadn't seen such fear, even on the battlefield. "Sergeant," her voice cracked as she whispered, "it's a foot." She closed her eyes as she sent up a prayer, "Dear God, what do we do now?"

Nick stared at her for a split second, then moved to the end of the bed, glancing down between Bessie's legs as though Viola might not know what a foot looked like. "Blast it," he spat out, reaching up to rake back a lock of hair that had fallen in the middle of his forehead. "Viola, do you have any grease?" he demanded.

"Grease? What kind of grease?"

"Cooking grease. Lard. Anything."

"Lard?"

"Just get it," Nick spat out.

Viola dashed out the door in response, running back in to see Nick folding up the cuffs of his shirt, his voice suddenly smooth as he crooned, "Just stay calm. We'll make it through this. Happens every day." Viola looked down at the young man, wondering who he was trying to convince, but her brow furrowed as Nick scooped fingers full of grease out of the can, coating his hand and Bessie's crotch, and first his fingers, then his whole hand disappeared inside the woman as he tried to get a grip on the small leg. He heard Viola's gasp and her soft voice utter, "Oh. Sweet. Heaven," but he ignored her, looking up at Bessie. "Bessie, with the next pain, I need you to bear down hard. Viola, come here and stretch the skin down." Viola stared in disbelief but did as she was told, following his lead, bracing herself as Bessie's screams tore through the room.

All of a sudden, they heard a man's voice call out, "Sergeant?" to which Nick yelled back, "I said nobody comes in this cabin!" his deep voice cutting through Bessie's screams.

Minutes later, Viola found herself softly squealing, "It's a boy!" as she picked up the wriggling sallow skinned child, quickly wrapping him in a clean towel. "He's beautiful! Do you have a name for him, Bessie?"

"Moses," the woman crooned as lay back in the bed, exhausted. "Cause I'm hoping he'll pass into freedom."

Finally, Nick stood and took a deep breath, wiping his hands on another of the clean cloths from the stack of linens, and he stared quietly at the scene of the young woman bending over the mother and child, thinking to himself that when he enlisted with the Union Army, he never pictured himself being ordered about by a Rebel civilian and helping a runaway slave give birth. He looked down at his hands, still slick from the lard and turned and left the room, eager to wash up. He found himself stopped by Uncle Jack. "Is everything all right?"

Nick hesitated, thinking to himself, _as if I know_ but answered instead, "Looks like it," mustering a smile for the benefit of the children huddled together in a corner. "It's a boy, by the way," he added, walking to the part of the room that might be called a kitchen where he washed his hands in a basin. He was getting ready to leave when he saw Viola coming out of the bedroom, calling the others to come in. Their eyes met and she walked over slowly, handing him his gloves and saber and the coat he had shed at some point.

"Thank you. I would have been lost by myself." She crossed her arms to hug herself. "Can I offer you anything? Coffee?"

He nodded. "Coffee sounds good. If it's not any trouble."

"No. No trouble." She glanced around the kitchen, looking up at him with a smile. "At least, if you have some coffee to spare," she answered, her tone mildly apologetic.

He chuckled as he looked down, noticing she was even prettier than he first thought, at least when she wasn't as cold as ice or as scared as a rabbit. Her smile was warm and sincere and lit up her face. And those blue eyes, a beautiful deep blue now that they weren't staring daggers at him. And his mind registered that her hair was mussed, probably like his, a few damp brown strands hanging limply near her face. Staring at her, he thought about the risks she was taking, what her life must be like running a stop on the Underground Railroad this far South, harboring runaway slaves and he knew that he wouldn't, he couldn't deny her anything, certainly nothing so simple as coffee. "As a matter of fact, I do have some coffee to spare," he answered, resisting the urge to push her hair back behind her ear. He walked outside, moving across to the tree where he'd put down his saddle bags earlier, and he dropped his coat, gloves and saber, then pulled his saddle bag over his shoulder as he moved back toward the cabin, noticing the eyes of his men following him as he crossed the open area. "Something I should know about?" he asked curtly, his men not responding, refusing to meet his eye. "Out with it," he added, this time barking the order.

"We found the chicken and cows, Sergeant. They're in a pen just a little ways off."

"Good. One of you can show me where when I get back."

The men exchanged quick glances and finally, Stevenson, an older soldier not normally part of their unit, asked quietly, although he had fire in his eyes, "She all right?"

"Who?"

"The girl."

"Course she's all right," Nick answered, dismissing the question out of hand. He was halfway back to the cabin when he turned back to the men. "Why wouldn't she be all right?"

Stevenson viewed Nick with disgust and didn't bother to hide the contempt in his voice. "We heard her screams, Sir."

Nick felt his stomach clench and his blood turned cold when Stevenson spat out the word 'sir.' Immediately, he realized that his men had heard Bessie's scream and assumed they were Viola's. He swallowed hard at the idea that any man in his command would think him capable of causing her to scream so, whether it be by beating, torturing or raping the woman, especially when she was deserving of so much of their respect and admiration. His voice was gruff as he answered, "It's not what you're thinking. She's fine. Start setting up camp, we'll be staying here for tonight." Striding back into the cabin, he set the bag lightly onto the table. "Coffee," he said. "What else can we do for you?"

She smiled up at him. "You could tell me your name, Sergeant."

He returned the smile. "Sergeant Barkley. Or Nick," he added. "Nick Barkley. Sergeant Nick Barkley."

Amused at his stammered response, she fought the urge to giggle and replied, "Thank you, Sergeant Barkley. And I'm Viola, although I believe you've already figured that out." She silently set up a coffee pot, then gestured for him to follow her onto the porch. He noticed that her hair was pulled back in a dark ribbon and that she looked even lovelier than a few minutes before, a certain air of confidence she had attracting him all the more. She sat in the lone, rickety chair on the porch, and watched as Nick half sat, half leaned on the railing. Both of them glanced over at his men grouped together in the clearing, their attention now rapt on the young couple casually sitting on the porch. "You should stay here, at least for one night," she said softly, her voice smooth with a southern lilt now that there was a moment of calm. "Probably two."

He cocked his head as she made the suggestion, his smile growing broader. "I already told my men to set up camp for tonight."

She continued to smile but shook her head and rolled her eyes at his impertinence. "That clearing just beyond the tree line over that way is a good spot. Your camp won't be seen from the water." She hesitated just long enough to convince herself that she could trust him then leaned toward him, dropping the volume of her voice even though no one else was within earshot. "When you were separated from your regiment, you went in the wrong direction. From here, Rebel forces have you cut off. There's really no way for you to rejoin the Union troops right now without having to cross Confederate lines."

He furrowed his brow. "How do you know – "

She held up her hand to quiet him and took in a slow breath, before she listened to her gut and continued. "The Union Army has plans to head east, hoping to cut off the supply line and the rail. The Confederates are trying to regroup, more than likely they'll be pulling back south tomorrow, tomorrow night at the latest but they won't come through here, they'll keep to dry land in an area to the west of us. Once they do, I have a couple of canoes and I can guide you to a dry stretch that's not far off. It'll get you out of the swamp, you can go from there and meet up with your unit. Until then, you should be safe here."

Nick was staring at her hard and stood, looming over her, his hands curled into fists planted at his waist, his mind spinning with questions. "How do you where my unit is?"

She shrugged and gave him a half smile. "It doesn't actually matter which unit, does it? If it's the Union Army you're looking for, it'll be much easier for you to find them in a couple of days from where I'll take you than from around here any time soon. For now, you need to post sentries on the water line up at that point over there and over at the big tree on the far side of the clearing. Find someone not afraid of heights and they'll have a good view of the entire area if they're willing to climb. Just in case someone should come by. But, like I said, you should be safe here."

Nick stared at her suspiciously. "Who are you and why should I trust you?"

Her smile lit up her face and Nick noticed how much her eyes sparkled when she had the upper hand. "Calm down, Sergeant. You already know that my name is Viola and we'll leave it at that, if you don't mind. As to why you should trust me, how about because I've already trusted you," she said in response, standing and moving to the door. "And if you really need me to, I can give you passwords for the last couple of months, you name it," she answered with a shrug. "Just don't ask me how I know. Now, I'm going to check on Bessie and Moses and the others. Feel free to let your men know there's about to be hot coffee."

Nick sat in the quiet, staring at the door, wondering about this woman. She came back out, with two cups in one hand, the coffee pot in the other. Nick stood, taking the two cups and holding them as she poured the two of them coffee, then he watched as she poured coffee for his men, telling them to help themselves to water from the cistern, and that she'd start on dinner shortly. "If someone could milk the cow, I'd appreciate it," she said easily. "And bring me the eggs if you would."

"You don't need to cook for us," Nick commented.

"I'd rather not have two fires going. Two plumes of smoke might raise suspicions. And as long as I'm cooking for the crowd inside, a few more won't matter. Give me a few minutes and then I could use some help getting a boat out."

"A boat?"

"I've got some traps set not too far off. How does fish sound for dinner?" Nick smiled at her comment, thinking he'd been right, that she had more to offer than at first glance, much more. He and one of his men helped her get one of the boats out and he watched as she crossed the water, rowing skillfully, her strokes powerful and sure as she moved the boat through the swamp on her own, navigating around water hazards he couldn't see from the shore as she checked her lines and traps, returning with dinner aplenty to find Nick and his men hard at work, tents pitched, washing out their laundry, cleaning guns, the pails of milk covered with a clean cloth and sitting on the porch. She glanced over at the men as they made camp, stealing a glimpse of Nick as he lifted the axe high, bringing it down to cleanly cleave the logs, the blade seeming to slide through the wood making it ready to add to her wood pile. She swallowed hard at the sight, the young Sergeant chopping wood for her, his shirt off, his body smooth, muscles hard, that one lock of hair flopped down across his forehead and she found herself thinking about smoothing it back, stroking the side of his face, the two of them close enough to feel the heat radiating off their bodies. She let out a long, slow breath, fanning herself as she turned to go back into the house, knowing that the day was far from over.

Hours later, when mother and baby were tucked in, children put to bed, soldiers bivouacked in the clearing, Viola came out to stand on the porch, enjoying the stillness and relative cool of the night when her dog lifted his head. "Someone there?" she asked, looking into the dark.

"It's Sergeant Barkley, Miss Viola," Nick answered, stepping from behind the moon shadow of a tree into the moonlight. A quick glance revealed to him that she was leaning up against the porch rail, a small towel thrown over one shoulder, her dark hair hanging loose once again. His mind registered that she looked even softer and prettier standing in the moonlight with her guard down and he had to wonder whether it was because of the moon or the calm. "Do you need anything?" he asked.

She smiled at his calling her 'Miss Viola.' "I suppose I could use some pleasant company. Come join me. Plus I have something for you." She ducked into the house, coming back with the bottle of whiskey and two cups. "I figured I'd impose upon you once more, if that's all right with you," she said, smiling up at him, holding up the bottle. At his nod, she poured Nick a couple of fingers of whiskey and a couple of sips for herself before handing him the bottle. She sat back in her place in the chair that had seen better days, noting that Nick waited to lean against the railing until she had settled, the two of them reclaiming their places from earlier in the day. "So, Sergeant, tell me, where's home?"

"California."

"You're a long way."

"Now, that's a fact. What about yourself?"

"Here and there. My father's work had us move several times when I was growing up."

"What does he do?"

She hesitated for just a second. "He's a banker. Helping people with their savings, settling accounts, that sort of thing."

"I'm surprised you moved a lot. I've always thought of bankers as fairly stable."

She smiled up at the stars, twirling the whiskey in her glass. "I didn't say he was a good banker."

Nick chuckled. "From the sound of your voice, I'd say you spent some time before now here in the South."

"Indeed. My youth has given me a Southern accent, but my later years have given me Northern sensibilities."

"And is that why you're here?" he asked, gesturing toward the surrounding swamp.

She nodded. "I am an avowed abolitionist. And hence a supporter of our glorious union. So, Sergeant, what brought you across the continent, risking life and limb?"

Nick looked down into his cup. "I finished up with school and it seemed like the thing to do." He looked up, seeing her eye him intently and he shrugged and gave more than his standard response, although he wasn't sure why. "There's a preacher out in California, out of San Francisco, actually. Thomas Starr King. He's an abolitionist. You couldn't hear him and not be moved."

"Ahhh. Another enlistment credited to the good Reverend King," she answered, smiling.

"You've heard of him?"

"Not just heard of him. I've heard him preach in Boston. He gives a masterful sermon."

"You're from Boston?"

She hesitated. "I'm from a lot of places." She sipped her whiskey and looked over at Nick, amused by the curiosity reflected in his eyes. "Tell me, what did California hold for you before you entered the Army?"

Nick stared at her for a moment. "Seems to me I'm answering a lot more questions than you are."

"You're not the one living in secret." He glanced down at the ground, nodding in acknowledgment as he considered her comment. "So, California?" she prompted.

"My family owns a ranch. Cattle, horses, crops." He grinned as he looked over at her. "That's how I knew that cows give milk."

Her deep, throaty, honest laugh caused his grin to widen even more, deepening the dimples in his cheeks. She found herself grinning back at him. "You didn't have chickens to know about the eggs?" she teased, feeling very comfortable sitting with a young man on her porch, thinking to herself that at another time, in another place, this could be a courting call, a young man visiting with a young girl, the two of them making small talk and exchanging light banter as they sat on the porch and enjoyed the night air.

"Actually, I knew about the eggs coming from chickens, too."

Her laugh was warm and sincere. "Did you now? Somehow that doesn't surprise me. Although, you said earlier that you finished up with school before joining the Army and here I was thinking being a sergeant and all, that you must be far older than you look, probably regular army and that you must have a wife back home and fourteen children that you personally have helped deliver."

Nick shook his head. "No. No wife, no children."

She leaned forward, staring at him in the moonlight, her eyes serious but kind. "You were very impressive in there," she insisted, raising her glass in toast to him, then taking a small sip.

"Well, might be that I was home when the cat had kittens." He chuckled when she sputtered the sip she'd been taking. "You all right?" He grinned at her as she nodded, then smiled at his boldness.

She stared up at him, choosing her words carefully, not sure if she wanted to know the answer. "You might not have a wife but I'm still thinking there's been more than cats and kittens. Is this a story I want to hear?"

"I s'pose. I mentioned my family's ranch. There's been a mare now and again I've helped foal. And when a horse needs help, it's cause something's not going to plan."

"Oh, goodness gracious. Mares and foals? But that reminds me, I've been meaning to ask – how did you come to be without a horse? Being cavalry, that is."

"How did you know I was cavalry?"

"The saber's a giveaway. And then there's the boots, the gloves, the insignia on the hat, the short jacket."

Nick nodded, realizing her answer was obvious. "I had my horse shot out from under me. A damned fine animal, too," Nick added, thinking of the horse that had gotten him through some tough spots. Realizing what he had said, he added, "Pardon my language, Miss Viola."

She shrugged off the apology. "That's quite all right, Sergeant. I know you cavalry men can have a true partnership with your horses. Like the mares and foals. Well, thank heaven for horses, and thank you for helping. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"Glad to be of help." Nick gestured back to the cabin. "How long do you figure they'll be here?"

"Just another day or so. They need to keep moving. But I think the birth took a lot from Bessie."

"I was thinking, even though you said you wanted as few people to know as possible, if I have my sentries posted, it could be a good time for the children to get outside, stretch their legs in the sunshine. They tend to move at night, don't they?"

She sat quietly, pondering the idea. Sitting forward, she looked Nick right in the eye, her blue eyes drilling into his hazel ones, any mild amusement erased. "How well do you know your men? Can they be trusted?"

"You can trust my men. We've been together for several months. Except for one man who's not from our unit, he just ended up with us." She raised her eyebrows sharply at the revelation. "But I expect he'd protect your secrets. He, uh, was concerned that I had mistreated you earlier. He heard Bessie's screams. Thought they were yours. He was ready to tear me apart."

She stared at him, her eyes becoming wide as the meaning of his words sunk in. The shock of recognition hit her and her entire body contracted for a brief moment. "Oh, my! I, um . . . My apologies, Sergeant," she said, her voice sincere. "I would hate for your behavior to be called into question with your men when it's so obvious to me that you are, indeed, a gentleman." Nick watched her as she hesitated, weighing her options before continuing. "We'll work something out tomorrow. It would be good for the children to be able to get out in the daytime." She sat quietly as she stared up at the sky. "I hated having to put them in that hole today. That's the worst part. For me. It's nothing compared to what they go through."

Nick nodded. "Life must be horrible for a woman that heavy with child to decide that's the right time to go for freedom."

Viola let out of slow breath. "Bessie told me that her master's son came home from fighting. Had started looking at her 12 year-old daughter. She didn't think she could risk staying. Especially since her daughter and the owner's son were actually half sister and brother."

Nick drew his hand across his face, the idea sickening him, and he let out a heavy sigh. Looking threw the dark, he wasn't sure if his eyes were playing tricks on him or if he could see the blush crossing her face and he had to wonder how she'd gotten herself into the middle of this. Sensing he wouldn't get an answer if he asked, he stared at her and said, "You're doing good work here. Anything we can do to help while we're here, just ask."

"You're doing good work, too, Sergeant." She turned as the stillness was broken by cries from inside the cabin. "Let me go check on them, and then I suppose we should all sleep while we can." Nick stood when she did, waiting for her to go in, then moved off, checking on his men before turning in.

As he lay down in his bed roll, he thought about what she said, that they were doing good work. He thought about Bessie and her children, the possibility that they might reach freedom and safety, they and thousands like them, and he knew that he and his men, and Viola and Jack, they were all doing good work. He glanced at his surroundings, the moss dripping from the trees and he listened to the noises of the swamp animals, the frogs' deep croaks, the sounds of animals he couldn't quite place, and he thought about how far he'd come from home and how far he'd have to go before getting back there. He longed for the days when sleeping on the ground surrounded by men meant sitting out with the herd, meant having a chuck wagon nearby, meant having family, his father, his brother, sleeping in the next bed roll. The war didn't look like it would end anytime soon, that much he knew, and he wondered how heavy a toll it would take before it was over. Only time would tell and if these last months were any indication, hell, if these last days were any indication, he had no idea what life held in store for him before he returned home.


	4. Chapter 4

I considered breaking this up into two posts, but decided against it so be forewarned that it's a long post, even for me. I'll note General Dodge was a real general in the Civil War and he really did have his own network of spies! He's not mine, but all converstions and actions are, no offense intended. Similarly, some license may be taken with historic events and locales.

Chapter Four

_Outside Vicksburg, June 1863_

Nick walked into the morning staff meeting with a couple of other junior officers. The staff officers gathered in the dining room of the majestic plantation house that they had taken over as headquarters with the senior officers taking seats at the dining room table lengthened with every leaf in it that could be found, the aides and junior officers sitting behind the higher ranked men. Nick glanced around the room and found himself wondering whether his family was gathering in their own dining room that was not so much different from what this one probably looked like a couple of weeks ago.

Back home, the sun would just be coming up. If not for the war, Nick knew that, more than likely, he and his father would be having coffee about now, his father letting him know what they'd be doing for the day. He'd have to go out to the barns, there would be men to assign, make sure the early morning chores were started, check on the horses quick, see that Eugene was getting a cow milked. He smiled at the thought, remembering when milking a cow was his job and Jarrod was the one checking horses. Life in California, life on the ranch seemed a lifetime away and there were days when he wondered if he'd ever see it again, if he'd ever get back to a life where the men weren't all wearing blue or grey. A life with a home, a family. Life where your biggest concern was getting fence back up, not how long it would take a city to fall. After all, how long could they hold out in Vicksburg, he asked himself and, suddenly, the memories of home vanished and he was back in this dining room turned war room, one of many officers waiting for the day to start.

They were all getting used to the pattern – battle, campaign, battle, march, big battle when one army makes a stand or makes a major move, then the winning army makes camp, the loser retreats and makes camp and everyone licks his wounds and rearms, restocks and resupplies, if possible. But for now they were camped outside Vicksburg with the siege ongoing and showing no signs of stopping. Nick glanced around the room reflecting on the fact that it'd already been two years since Fort Sumpter, hell, this summer was two years that he had joined up. Only difference these days was the where and when. For now, General Grant was determined to take Vicksburg and gain control of the Mississippi and the Union forces were well entrenched to wait until the Rebel forces inside the city surrendered. He sat back in his chair, certain that today's meeting was likely to follow the same agenda as the last few days. Combat readiness, how many injured, how many ill, status of supplies, plans for that day's bombings. While they all waited, the room buzzed with quiet conversations and asides.

"Attention!" rang through the room and every man sprang to his feet, conversations coming to a halt, the only sounds those of chairs being pushed back and shuffling feet. Nick glanced over as Generals Grant and Dodge walked into the room, General Grant murmuring "At ease," and they all reclaimed their seats. With a few short words, General Grant turned the meeting over to General Dodge who glanced around the room at the senior officers. "We have a situation that requires a civilian to be transported to Washington. There will not be a military escort in the traditional sense but we do need an officer who can ensure that she reaches Washington safely." At the use of the word "she," heads popped up around the room, a response that did not escape the generals' notice. It was no secret that General Grenville Dodge had started to develop a network of spies, spies who in many cases were known only to him, spies that fed him a steady, highly reliable stream of information. If General Dodge needed to get a woman to Washington, that could mean almost anything. "I need all senior officers to think about who of the officers in your command would be a good candidate for this assignment. He may be traveling as a civilian and if it is just the two of them, he needs to be able to make decisions on his own, and he needs to be able to protect his charge with a knife, gun, or his bare hands, if necessary. Because of travel arrangements, he needs to be comfortable with handling money and the level of affluence he would find in a First Class situation. Also, because of certain circumstances," he hesitated, weighing his options yet again, "it's preferable that he be unmarried. But, as I said, he'll be traveling alone with this woman, so he needs to be a gentleman." The general paused and glanced around the room watching as some officers scratched names on paper, conferring with officers next to them, some scratching through what they had written, silent consultations happening around the room, all heads turning when they heard a question.

"General Dodge, let me make sure I understood, you prefer him to be unmarried?"

"That's correct," he answered curtly, his tone letting the men know that further explanations would not be forthcoming.

"Does age matter?" another officer asked.

"Not as long as he's old enough to shave," he answered, drawing muffled chuckles around the room, "although as I said earlier, he'll be expected to do whatever's necessary to get her to Washington, so mature enough to take care of the two of them, whatever that requires. And again, he needs to be a gentleman with her."

Colonel Jock Maclean leaned forward, drawing Nick's attention. "Will we get him back?" he asked.

"What's that, Colonel?" the general asked.

"If we volunteer one of our men and send him to Washington, will we get him back?"

General Dodge shrugged lightly. "I can't tell you that. I don't know if they'll even make it to Washington." At that response, he noticed the looks exchanged by many of the officers. "But I can't emphasize the importance of getting the woman to Washington. I consider this a top priority and if it takes your best man, so be it. That's the man I'm looking for."

Jock turned and looked over at Nick, saying "Sorry, Lad."

Nick drilled a look at Jock. "Sir?" but Jock had already turned his attention to the generals.

"Lieutenant Barkley strikes me as fitting the bill." Jock continued to address General Dodge, "Barkley is a crack shot, strong as an ox, and while he can be a little loud, he can behave himself with the ladies. When he gets a chance, he even knows what fork to use. If I had a sister or auntie or niece I needed to get to Washington, I'd trust him with her."

Nick sat forward in his chair as he watched his fate be decided. He wasn't the least bit happy about being sent away from the front and spending however much time being a glorified messenger but as General Dodge eyed him carefully, he had to wonder what he could be getting into.

General Dodge nodded. "Fine. Who else?"

Nick looked around the room as other officers were mentioned, his relief growing as the suggestions piled up, and his chances of being chosen lessened.

Finally, Dodge looked around the room. "Unless anyone has any other suggestions, I need those mentioned and their superior officers to come with me."

Nick and Jock stood, filing out with the other men, following the General into the adjacent parlor being used by the Generals as a private office. Of the group, Nick thought that he was the youngest, certainly one of the less senior officers of those suggested. He listened to the other men's qualifications as Dodge asked questions of their commanding officers. Finally, Dodge looked over at Nick and turned to Colonel Maclean. "You said he's a crack shot. Compared to the others in your regiment?"

"He's probably the best in the regiment. Fastest with a revolver, no doubt."

The officer sitting next to Jock offered, "Regiment? He may be the fastest in the brigade."

General Dodge noted the nodding heads and general agreement from around the room and turned to Nick. "What did you do before you enlisted?"

"I was a hand on our family's ranch," Nick answered.

"A ranch hand?" Dodge asked warily. "Where?"

"Stockton, California, Sir."

Jock spoke up in Nick's favor. "General Dodge, he's young but Lieutenant Barkley came to us knowing how to make a camp and how to survive in the outdoors. In the two years since he enlisted, he's shown that he's experienced in leading men, and he knows how to make things happen. And as far as being a ranch hand, from what Nick's told me, while he's used to working hard, the family has their fingers in a few other more lucrative pies, so the lad has an appreciation for some of the finer things in life."

"Still . . ." General Dodge eyed Nick critically, "you may need to pretend to be well off."

"Lad," Jock added, "tell the General about your so-called ranch and what your family owns."

Nick hesitated, never one to boast about his family's wealth, clearing his throat while he cast a quick glance about the room, his voice growing stronger as he detailed the family holdings. "We have the ranch, about 20,000 acres, cattle herds, about 2,000 head, horses, crops, gold and silver mines as well as timber stands."

"Gold and silver mines?"

"Yes, sir."

"Productive?"

Nick nodded. "Some more than others."

"Nick," prodded Jock, "tell the general what you told me about this house."

Nick shrugged. "Just that it reminds me of home."

"What? This house?" the general asked, glancing around the room.

"Yes, sir. The general style, the furnishings, the size."

The general nodded, continuing to study Nick. "Lieutenant, do you have a sister?"

"Yes, Sir," Nick answered, eyeing the general carefully.

"How old?"

"She's, uh . . ." Nick had to think for a moment. "Nine years old now."

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

Dodge looked at him carefully, slightly surprised at Nick's youth considering his rank but also impressed. "If I send you on this mission, I expect you to show this young woman every respect you would expect other men to show your sister when she gets a few years older."

A slight smile crossed Nick's face. "Yes, Sir."

Dodge stared Nick in the eye. "That's an order, Lieutenant. You find my order amusing?" he challenged.

Any hint of a smile disappeared immediately. "No, Sir. I was just thinking that some years back my mother and father issued me that order for any girl. A standing order, if you will."

Dodge fought off his amusement and, his posture menacing, stepped toward Nick. "That's good to know. Now let me assure you that this isn't any girl." He swept his gaze around the room, making sure all eyes were on him. "Whoever is sent, I want you to treat this girl as if she were MY daughter. Do I make myself clear?"

Nick shifted, standing a little taller and much stiffer. "Yes, Sir!" he answered with the chorus of male voices in the room.

"Colonel, what else should I know about the Lieutenant?"

"That he's one of the finest junior officers I've ever seen. And that my one hesitation is that he'll not be coming back to our regiment."

"As I said, Colonel, I can't give you any assurances on that. Gentlemen, I want you to understand how important it is for this woman to get to Washington."

"Yes, Sir," rang out the chorus of voices.

"Whichever man is sent, the two of you will be traveling alone," he said, hesitating when a door opened, "although, at this point, I'm not certain what the story will be."

"I've told you, General, I know what our story will be." The men turned toward the sound of a woman's voice, all of them looking at the young woman, barely more than a girl, standing in the doorway, the annoyance obvious in her face.

Nick stared at her, a grin breaking out as he realized who she was. But a look of concern quickly wiped the smile off his face. She was tired, worn, and haggard, he could see that in the circles under her eyes, but there was no doubt in his mind that it was the same girl he'd run into at that cabin in the swamp a year or so before – Viola. A wave of emotions washed across his face as he realized that surely she was the woman the general wanted taken to Washington. No doubt, she was one of General Dodge's spies. Memories of that time in the swamp came flooding back into his mind, but there was a new focus as her actions and the things she said then made so much more sense to him now.

She stared back at Nick, her own mind not quite as sharp that morning. "We've met," she said, her eyes questioning his. She looked over to General Dodge. "General, does the lieutenant have permission to speak at will?"

General Dodge watched the two of them for a moment, then nodded. "At ease, Lieutenant."

"We have met, haven't we?" she asked, stepping toward him.

She stared at him, noting as Nick's posture loosened, his shoulders dropping the slightest bit, his feet and hips shifting. "Yes, we have. I'm Lieutenant Barkley," Nick answered warmly. He glanced at the other men in the room, figuring that they wouldn't present a risk to her but thinking he'd do better to err on the side of caution. "Bessie and Moses," he reminded her.

He heard the sharp intake of her breath. "Benton's Crossing." She stared back at him, her eyes lighting up as she realized who he was and a slight smile graced her face. "My favorite midwife," she murmured.

He chuckled, answering, "Yes ma'am," as the other men exchanged glances.

"My apologies for not recognizing you right off. You received a promotion," she noted, gesturing to his bars. "You're a Lieutenant now."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Congratulations."

"Thank you, Miss Viola."

She looked around the room, surveying the officers present then turned to General Dodge. "General, are these the men under consideration to see me to Washington?"

"Yes, they are."

She nodded and glanced around once more then nodded toward Nick. "I want Lieutenant Barkley."

"I'm still finding out their qualifications."

"The lieutenant and I have worked together before. I know him; I trust him; we make a good team. He's resourceful and keeps his head under pressure. And if we should come across a cat having kittens, well . . ." she teased.

"I beg your pardon?" the general asked.

"A private joke, General," she answered, not able to contain her amusement. She looked back over to Nick, then around the room once more, confirming her choice. "And physically, we'll be a good match. We'll look the part." She looked at General Dodge and nodded, her demeanor suggesting there was nothing more to discuss.

"You don't want to hear about the others?"

"Not really." She bestowed a slight smile to the officers. "Gentlemen, I'm sure any one of you would be able to complete the task at hand, but as I said, I've worked with the Lieutenant before. Thank you for your time." She looked back to General Dodge and stared straight at him, waiting for him to dismiss the other men, smiling when he did so and she turned to Nick, waiting until the only people left in the room were the General, Colonel Maclean, the Lieutenant and her.

"So how have you been, Lieutenant?"

"Very well and yourself?"

She took a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling, fighting warring emotions. "Well, I haven't slept in three days, and in case you haven't heard, my life is in danger, but other than that . . ." She stared back at him, any pretense of happiness disappearing as she answered honestly, Nick's own face quickly becoming serious in response, his body tensing again.

"Your life is in danger?"

"That's why I need to get out of the South."

Nick nodded. "May I ask how your uncle is?"

"My uncle?" Her face darkened. "Jack," she answered softly, throwing a knowing look to General Dodge.

The general turned to Nick. "Jack was lynched three days ago. We believe the same people who killed him are looking for Kate."

Nick jerked his head to stare at the young woman, shocked by the general's response, then looked from General Dodge back to her. "I'm sorry to hear about Jack. But General Dodge called you Kate? I thought your name was Viola."

She scrunched up her face and rubbed her temples. "I'll be traveling as Kate. Is the different name going to be a problem for you, Lieutenant?"

"No. But if we're going to be traveling together, maybe I should know your last name."

A slight smile came back across her face. "That one should be easy for you. It'll be Barkley, the same as yours." She hesitated for a moment, taking in his furrowed brow. "We'll be traveling as husband and wife."

For a brief moment, Nick looked stunned by this bit of information as he considered the implications. General Dodge cleared his throat. "Kate, you said the two of you have worked together."

"Indeed," Kate answered.

"May I ask where and when?"

"Lieutenant Barkley and I crossed paths at Benton's Crossing. He and a small band of his men came upon that cabin in the swamp. Long story short, they stayed a couple of days until they could rejoin the Union Army. He proved quite helpful during the time he was there," she answered, smiling at Nick.

"Miss Viola, that is Miss Kate, left out the part about escorting my men and me to a point where we could rejoin our forces. It seems now I'll be returning the favor," Nick commented. "Although, this time, I'm to act as your husband?" He returned her smile, and the memory of her playing Blind Man's Bluff with the children flooded his mind as he recalled having to stop her from running into him. That moment of having her in his arms had filled his dreams in the months since he'd seen her.

General Dodge considered Nick warily. "Kate, you could be brother and sister," General Dodge suggested.

"No," she answered. "The whole point is for the two of us to have close quarters. He can't protect me if he's down the hall in his own room."

"If we were to choose one of the older officers, he could be your father."

"Lieutenant Barkley will do quite nicely. I'm sure."

"Kate, you may be too young to appreciate the ramifications that follow . . ."

She rolled her eyes in response. "You mean if people learn the lieutenant and I traveled together without a chaperone that they'll assume that we were lovers, that they'll assume that I'm little better than a prostitute? What are they calling them these days? Hookers?" she commented dryly, trying to prove that she was not as naive as the General seemed to think. In response to their shocked looks, she stared openly at General Dodge, her tone and face calm. "General, my larger concern is not that people will be talking about me but that they'll be talking about me at my funeral. Or that they'll be talking about how to get me out of a Confederate prison," she added, her voice acquiring an edge. "Having people question my morals, having them pass judgement, well . . . Didn't you ever hear that sticks and stones will break your bones, but words will never hurt you, General? What I'm worried about right now are the sticks and the stones," she answered, her tone earnest. They stood there, all of them quiet for several moments as General Dodge stared at Kate, then at Nick and back to Kate.

"And if you see someone you know?"

"General, we'll be traveling together for a matter of days," she answered, trying to dismiss his concerns. "This isn't going on for weeks at a time. And I'm hoping we keep to ourselves as much as possible. But if we do see someone we know, I doubt that they'll be a desk clerk reading the register or a porter on a train. We'll . . . well, improvise, if need be."

"I don't like this plan of yours. I don't like it at all. There has to be some other way."

"General, I don't like traveling though the woods alone at night," she insisted, her straightforward manner leaving Nick no doubt that she had been doing exactly that. "And if the alternative is traveling with an escort and traveling openly, then I choose the latter."

"So travel with him as an escort. Why do you need to risk your reputation by pretending to be married?"

Nick watched her carefully, wanting to know what she had been through but he knew better than to ask. If she was a spy, and he had every reason to believe she was, he knew that the fewer people who knew certain details, the better. But as he listened to her as she debated with the general, he found himself comparing her to his mother, another woman who was not likely to be silenced by other's expectations. Then too, there was the fact that she was a woman, a civilian, as no subordinate would have dared to speak to a superior officer the way that Viola spoke to General Dodge.

She stared down at the floor weighing her words, her voice soft when she began to speak again. "You didn't see Jack hanging from that tree. You didn't hear them, the things they said." She turned back to face General Dodge, her voice still calm but her eyes reflected her pain and fear and all three men felt their hearts constrict. She paced across the room, shaking her head before adding, "I understand your concerns, but you need to understand mine. If they are looking for me, more than likely they won't be looking for a wife traveling with her husband. You're concerned about my reputation, my concerns are for my life," she insisted.

"Kate, my concerns are for your life and your reputation and I don't think preserving both of them is impossible."

She glanced around the room at the three men. "General, I'm sure during the course of the war all three of you, heavens, every man in this headquarters have been called on to do things you wouldn't dream of doing if not for the war. I see this as another in the list of things that society and basic decency wouldn't allow otherwise and yet, because of the war and the circumstances, happen anyway. And yes, there will be those who won't excuse my actions, but General, my entire life for this last year is so far beyond what I ever could have imagined as possible. For me, it's just a matter of taking on a new persona, and that's something that I'm getting quite used to doing, as you know well."

General Dodge stared at her, throwing a quick look at Nick before turning back to Kate. "Kate, I understand you keeping this subterfuge as an option, but I want you to give me your word that you'll start with a more conventional relationship and only pretend to be married as a last resort."

Kate smiled in response. "General, the one thing I'll promise you is that we'll use whatever best suits the situation and if that's traveling as husband and wife, so be it. If it better suits us to travel as a soldier and his charge, then that's what we'll do." She stood as tall as she was able, squaring her shoulders. "General Dodge, trust me on this," she implored. He returned her stare for several moments, then looked from Nick to Kate and back before he nodded his approval. Kate smiled in satisfaction, turning to Nick. "Good. Now that we have that settled, let's talk about the details. General Dodge, I've been giving it some thought. My idea is for the two of us to go from here to north of Vicksburg to the Yazoo River. We'll make our way up to a rail line and then travel by rail to Washington, getting into Northern territory as soon as possible."

Jock's brow furrowed and he turned to General Dodge. "If they're going to the Yazoo, why not travel by Union boats to St. Louis and then by train to Washington? That way, while they're on a Union boat, we could give her the full protection of the Union Army for as long as possible. They can pick up a rail line in Illinois. It'll mean more miles and it might take longer, maybe not, but I'd think it'd be safer than traveling through the South."

"Yes. Much better." Kate smiled and nodded, looking over to General Dodge who nodded his assent. She ticked off a list of things they would need, tossing them out without allowing the men to get a word in edgewise. "Lieutenant, you'll need civilian clothes once we're in St. Louis and General, I'll need a couple of changes of clothes as well, preferably that are not lice infested. I'm assuming the quartermaster can help us. Also, I'll need a wedding ring if we can scare one up." She put up her hand to stop General Dodge from objecting. "Without a wedding ring, posing as a married couple won't be an option. If you'll get the quartermaster on that as well. And, General, you offered me the use of your quarters and I'm going to take you up on it and take a bath and a nap, in that order. As I said, I haven't slept in three days, so if I could be undisturbed until dinner, I would appreciate it. Lieutenant, I'd like to leave tonight after dinner, so make sure you're well rested." She stopped and turned back to Nick, slightly embarrassed by her oversight. "One last thing before I go upstairs. It might be helpful if you reminded me of your first name."

Nick smiled at her, a smile that showed off the dimples in his cheeks. "Nick. My name is Nick. Am I to assume that I'm using my real name?"

"Nick," she repeated, the tone of her voice washing over him, making him wonder whether this assignment was going to be the most enjoyable or most frustrating one he ever had. "It's always a good idea to keep things as simple as possible, especially when working under an assumed identity or changed life is new to someone. Tell me, Nick, and I suppose I should have asked this earlier, do you think you're up for the challenge?"

"The challenge of getting you back to Washington? I'll get the job done."

"Alive, I hope. For both of us."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

"And the subterfuge of being married? If we use it, you'll be all right with that? If there's a girl back home that this would cause problems with . . ."

His smile was fleeting. "I don't see it causing any problems for me. Frankly, I think I share some of the concerns General Dodge has about your reputation, but I'm sure we'll manage."

She considered him carefully. "Nick, half the challenge is being able to carry off the pretense. Whether we're brother and sister or husband and wife, we need to look that way to the casual observer. The way we talk to each other, the way we stand next to each other, the way we respond when we brush up against each other. We can't appear uncomfortable. And I can't have you concerned about my reputation. Traveling by Union ship up to St. Louis, will give us a couple of days traveling via military transport to get used to each other, but even then, in case we were to fall into Rebel hands, we'll need to be ready to pretend immediately."

"Is there something you can suggest?"

She stared at him, trying to decide whether she was being sensible or whether she was making wild decisions because she was so very tired. Maybe she had denied herself any pleasure for too long and that was clouding her thinking. But finally, she decided that she didn't care why, and some inner voice rang out, goading her that she was acting in service to her country, just in case there was any doubt. "I can tell you as a married couple, we should have a certain level of . . . intimacy between us," she said stepping close to him, staring up into his eyes. Hazel, her mind registered, ah yes, now she remembered them from before. She glanced down at the space between them and moved toward him another inch, laying a hand on his arm, immediately feeling the hard muscle through the wool of his jacket. Her body shifted toward him and she noticed that he had not moved, that he was preserving any space still between them. She found herself chuckling. "Lieutenant – that is, Nick," she corrected herself, "I'm assuming you've courted a girl or two back home?"

His voice took on a smooth tone as he stared into her eyes. "I suspect I've courted my share."

There was something about the way he said it that made her feel certain that he had courted more than his share and she couldn't help but grin up at him, feeling little doubt that they could make this work. "And if you and a girl were at a party or a dance and she stepped in this close, are you telling me that you wouldn't respond? At all?" she asked, nudging his arm around her, glancing to her side as his hand moved up her back to her upper arm, a nice respectable resting place.

Nick glanced over at the other two men in the room, then grinned down at Kate. "Not if her father was standing right there," he answered, remembering the order that he was to treat her as if she were Dodge's daughter.

She laughed at that and stared up at him, laying her hands on his chest, resisting the urge to smooth her hands across the jacket. "But remember, I'm not some girl you've just met. I'm your wife," she purred. "And if I'm this close to you, you need to put a protective arm around me, put your hands on my shoulders, reciprocate in some way. Assume that it's your right to touch me back, not that you'll be offending some girl's father."

She could have sworn that she saw his eyes darken as she felt him shift subtly toward her and his hands gripped her upper arms, his thumbs moving almost unconsciously, beginning to stroke her shoulders. "Better?" he crooned softly, his head moving toward hers so that she could feel his breath on her face, could smell his scents, a mixture of soap and this morning's coffee. She nodded up at him, her arms slipping behind his back and she took in a slow breath. "So is this the level of . . . intimacy you wanted?" he asked.

"Close to it." She stared back into his eyes and swallowed hard, her mind trying to maintain some level of detachment even as she said, "You need to kiss me," her voice calm but her eyes flashing as she stared up at him. "We need to be able to share a kiss and have it look natural."

"KATE!" General Dodge barked a warning but she coolly glanced over at him.

"We can't be in a situation where we have to kiss and not have it look right. I suppose we could get this first kiss out of the way while we're alone, but I thought you would want us to have you here as chaperone." Turning back to Nick, she kept her voice as dispassionate as she could for the General's sake. "Kiss me."

Nick hesitated, his eyes darting over to General Dodge and then returning to her. "Is that an order?" he asked her, his voice smooth as silk.

She smiled up at him even as their heads automatically tilted to the side, preparing for a kiss. "Technically, I'm a civilian. I can't order you to do anything, nor can you order me," she cooed just before she licked her lips. "But I do need to know that we can behave like a young married couple without people growing suspicious." She leaned against him, lifting her face to his, whispering, "Unless you have a better idea."

Even though he could hear what they were saying, their mannerisms spoke of something far different and General Dodge cleared his throat and stepped toward them. "Kate, I've informed Lieutenant Barkley that he is to behave as a gentleman."

Kate glanced over at the general but didn't move out of Nick's embrace. "Behaving like a gentleman is fine, but he has to convince the casual passerby that he's a husband." Her eyes locked on Nick's, her demeanor and tone teasing. "I'll suffer through it for my country if you will."

Never one to ignore a challenge, Nick sucked in a quick breath, ignoring the guffaw that Jock tried in vain to suppress and he looked over to General Dodge, waiting for the quick nod that was grudgingly given but which nonetheless gave him permission, and he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers, the kiss sure and steady. He lifted his head from hers and she opened her eyes, her eyes questioning his even as she nodded slightly.

"Oh come on, Lad, you can do better than that," Jock urged him.

Kate ducked her head into Nick's chest, then laughed openly at Jock's comment, her eyes darting to Jock, then back up to Nick. "Lieutenant – " She stopped herself, her tone chiding, "Oh, I need to stop calling you that. Nick, Darling," she crooned in a much sweeter voice, "is that how you plan to kiss your wife, or as the Colonel suggests, didn't you give it your all?"

He stared down at her, the twinkle in her eye daring him to kiss her with every bit of passion he possessed and his eyes betrayed his thoughts as he wondered how much experience she had, wondered what her passions would be if unchecked, his entire being coming alive as he thought about giving this woman everything he had. His eyes darkened and his body stiffened as he thought about just what would happen if this woman really was his wife. He gripped her arms tightly and pulled her closer to him. "You want me to give you my all?" Nick asked, his voice a low growl that made liquid pool in her gut.

A slight gasp escaped her as their gazes locked together and she swallowed hard before she answered, challenging him with a breathy response. "Give me everything you have."

This time, Nick brought one hand to her cheek and cradled her face, tilting it up to him as he wrapped his other arm more tightly around her, pressing against the middle of her back, and he pulled her body against his, not a sliver of space between them. His lips pressed against hers, this kiss harder, more insistent, the slightest bit rough, and within moments his mouth opened slightly, Kate following his lead, their breaths shared, the two tasting each other, matching each other as their heads turned. Nick pulled her closer still, his hand moving to hold the back of her head firmly in place, feeling her body mold to his as she moved deeper into his embrace, a light moan escaping from her, vibrating through his body as her arms wrapped around Nick's shoulders, holding him tight, pulling his head down to hers. Kate felt her body come alive as her face and neck grew flush, her breasts growing hard against Nick's chest and her nether regions growing damp as liquid gathered in her core, her insides aching as she felt Nick's manhood pressing up against her, his body leaving no doubt as to his state of arousal. She pulled away first, her lungs screaming for air, and Nick held her tightly as a slight tremble coursed through her body. "Oh, yes," she whispered.

"Yes?" he teased.

She let out a shuddered breath, her blue eyes almost black flashing up at him. "Yes, your Colonel was right. You could do better. That was a kiss that would leave no one doubting." Her tongue darted out to lick her lips as she brought her arms from around him, smoothing her hair back as she stepped out of his embrace. She pulled air into her lungs, trying to clear her muddled brain which seemed to be fixated on those dimples and his self-satisfied smile. As her hand went up to her face to stroke her bottom lip, she opened her mouth slightly, working her jaw after the hard kiss and she shook her head at him, focusing everything in her power so that she would sound nonchalant as she asked, "General, what time is dinner?"

General Dodge hesitated, uncertain about anything for the moment. Reluctantly, he answered, "We can accommodate your schedule."

"Good. Let's plan for six. Nick," she said, looking to him almost coyly, "Come upstairs around five. Wake me if I'm still asleep and we'll get to know each other better before dinner."

General Dodge's head dropped down, the idea of Nick going into her room while she was sleeping, the two of them getting to know each other better conjuring up visions of the young couple in each other's arms, a bed readily available. And after seeing them kiss, and noting the looks the two of them were still exchanging, he shook his head as images flooded his brain. "No," he insisted. "I'm sorry, Kate, but I feel responsible for you and the two of you cannot go off unchaperoned, putting yourselves into inappropriate situations, sharing accommodations. I won't allow it."

"Won't allow it?" Kate asked, her attention suddenly diverted from the ideas flooding her head and firing her passion. "General, need I remind you that I'm a civilian?"

"No, but Lieutenant Barkley is still under my command. And nothing requires me to give him leave to escort you to Washington."

"Sir," Nick offered, "but if she's in the amount of danger that you were talking about earlier, we can't have her travel alone."

"I'm aware of that, Lieutenant," he answered sharply. "Frankly, I'm worried there might be temptations between you that would be too great."

Nick cleared his throat, his eyes dropping to the ground and he heard the amusement in Kate's voice as she cajoled the general. "You're beginning to sound like a preacher, General Dodge. Concerned about the dangers of the flesh when there are far more serious dangers about. As far as I'm concerned, this is my latest assignment and Nick, my newest partner."

"Somehow I don't think you ever had cause to worry about your level of intimacy with Jack. Nor did I."

Kate blushed at the suggestion, her cheeks growing a soft pink. "I'm sorry we've given you cause to worry. But what you're telling me is that we come off convincingly. And I'm going to take that as a good sign."

"I don't like it, I don't like it at all." The general looked from one to the other as he mulled over the possibilities. "Would the two of you consider actually marrying? We would arrange for an annulment after you reach Washington."

Nick and Kate's heads both jerked to stare at the general, their shock obvious. "Actually marry?" asked Kate as reality crushed the thoughts she had been having. "We barely know each other."

"General, I have to agree with Viola, or rather, Kate," added Nick as he glanced at this woman, the idea of bedding her totally acceptable to him, but marrying her was a completely different story.

"I see it as a very practical solution. In case the situation develops into something untoward, the two of you have a marriage to fall back on. But the annulment is incentive for the two of you to behave appropriately. Let me get a chaplain – "

"A chaplain?" interrupted Kate. "Absolutely not."

"Kate, listen to me – "

"I will not take vows I have no intention of keeping. Til death do we part so help me God? I'm sorry, I can't even consider letting a chaplain marry us."

"You would rather risk your reputation being destroyed than marry in front of a chaplain?" asked the general.

"Yes," Kate responded calmly. "And I'm glad we understand each other."

"You're tired, Kate – "

"I am. And I'm going up to bathe and sleep. Nick, wake me at five," she insisted, wasting no time in sweeping from the room.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Nick peered into the darkened bedroom, the stray rays of light fighting their way in through the cracks between the heavy curtains. He knocked once again, seeing her sleeping form on the bed, a blanket pulled over her shoulder, the scene blurred by the mosquito netting hanging around the bed from the full canopy. He hesitated, pulling out his pocket watch to check the time before he stepped into the room, a quick debate taking place in his head as to whether to shut the door or leave it open. Glancing back at the bed, he saw her roll over and saw the blanket fall back, revealing more skin than he knew he should be seeing. He considered stepping out into the hall but reminded himself that he could be sharing a room with this woman for the foreseeable future and that there might well be more moments like this one. Looking back into the hall, knowing that she certainly wouldn't want to be on display to anyone passing the open door, he shut the door, stepping quietly toward the bed. "Kate," he called out softly. Stepping closer, he pulled back some of the netting, letting it fall behind him, then grabbed a corner of the blanket, dropping it over her shoulder, the lack of skin showing making the situation far easier to bear. She started to stir and he stepped back of the netting and away from the side of the bed and moved to the foot of it, trying to do what he could to keep the situation appropriate. "Kate?" he said, a little louder and more insistent.

Suddenly, she sat bolt upright, her right hand drawing a gun from beneath the pillow, the pistol pointed right at him. Nick immediately dropped down into a crouch beyond the end of the bed and called out, "Kate! Or, Viola! Or – Woman, it's me, Nick! Nick Barkley. Lieutenant Barkley. You're at Vicksburg. Remember?!" He gave her a moment to waken as he shook his head, chastising himself. It wasn't the first time he'd had someone draw on him when awakened from a deep sleep and he knew that he had drawn on other officers. It was common practice for them to sleep with a loaded revolver on their chests and he chided himself for not realizing that she might sleep with a gun within her reach. He heard the distinctive click as she uncocked the gun and the creak of the wooden slats as she twisted on the bed, then he saw the netting move and heard a thump he assumed was the revolver on the night stand. Slowly, he began to rise, looking into her eyes as she crept across the mattress toward him, the two of them close enough for the netting to almost disappear from view. He found himself staring down the front of her chemise as it fell away from her body, her breasts swelling as she breathed in a heavy breath, then yawned, stretching her body. "Sorry about that. Good bed," she muttered as her body dropped back onto the mattress. "I must have been sleeping hard. Normally you wouldn't have been able to get in the room."

Nick found himself staring at the young woman clad only in a chemise and pantalets who sat atop the bedclothes, then fought to tear his eyes away, staring at his feet instead. His mouth was dry as he struggled to utter something appropriate. "That's all right. I've done the same to other officers in my regiment."

He heard the bed creaking and fought the urge to look at her as she moved around the room, light flooding in as she pushed back the curtains, the sun streaming in making the minimal light cotton garments she wore almost transparent. "What time is it?" she asked as she stopped to stretch again.

"Huh?" He closed his eyes as he concentrated on calming his body. "Ah, five, just as you requested," he answered.

She nodded as she fought back a yawn, noticing that Nick had moved to look out the window. He looked across the fields, naming every unit in his head and going through as many details as he knew about each one of them. This morning, when there was talk of a difficult assignment, he would never have pictured this. And when the General spoke of having to protect her, he didn't think he'd have to protect her from himself.

She smiled, watching the broad back, the young man so obviously discomfitted by their situation. Crossing over to the washstand, she began to splash water on her face, glancing back over, wondering how long he would stay there with his back toward her when she realized he was occasionally sneaking a peek in the reflection of the window. Toweling off her face, neck and arms, she tossed the towel over one shoulder, letting it drape across her front, then picked up the hair brush that had been brought to her earlier, stroking through the long locks as she stepped to the side of him. "Nick, look at me," she insisted, fighting the chuckle rising within her as his gaze rose and then stopped at her chest level. "Look me in the eye, if you don't mind," she added, her amusement growing as his checks turned pink but his eyes rose to meet hers. She smiled gently at his embarrassment, sensing he would die rather than admit it and she found herself wondering how they were going to manage together. "This is all part of it. We're going to be staying in close quarters until we get to Washington and there are going to be times when proprieties cannot be maintained. And that's fine, up to a point." She hesitated. "You realize that I'm one of General Dodge's spies?" she added.

"I assumed as much but I figure you'll tell me what I need to know."

She nodded. "Absolutely, and likely no more. But I'm sure you know that General Dodge feels very protective toward all of us acting in his service and in the service of our country."

Nick nodded. "That's well known."

"Good, so you also realize that if you cross a certain line and I complain to him, Grenville Dodge will have your head."

Nick cleared his throat. "I've already had a similar conversation with him."

Kate let out a throaty chuckle. "Really? What did he say?"

"Well, he threatened me with a court martial if I didn't treat you properly. And warned me that I was to treat you as if you were his daughter."

"Oooh, a much more serious threat. Court martial could get you twenty years, a man protecting his daughter's reputation will get you killed outright." Kate smiled at him, relieved that Nick reacted in kind, and she sat down, continuing to talk as she pulled on and laced a pair of low heeled boots. "I asked you up here so we could become better acquainted. Let me guess a few things about you. You've never been married, no serious girls and either you don't have sisters, or they're not close in age to you."

He looked at her curiously. "Well, you're mostly right. I've never been married, I've had a couple of girls, but you're right, nothing serious and I have one sister. She's nine. How did you know?"

"You're not at all used to a girl in her undergarments. If you were married or had a sister closer in age, you might not be quite as unnerved. That's not for certain, mind you, but a good guess." She smiled as Nick looked away, tugging on his ear self-consciously. "So, I'm going to guess that you have no experience with corsets."

Nick's eyes shot up to meet hers, his mouth hanging open for a moment until he cleared his throat. "Well, I, uh . . ."

"Experience helping a girl put a corset on?" Kate clarified as she felt her cheeks grow warm.

Nick hesitated. "Uh, no."

Kate closed her eyes, shaking her head, thinking to herself that she didn't want to know what Nick's experience was. "The quartermaster was able to find me some clothes, but I'll need some help in dressing and fitting the corset to me. I'm thinking you're as good as anyone else," she commented easily as she pulled the corset over her head, adjusting it to her waist. "I need you to lace me up. It's not hard, you just start at the top, work your way down," she instructed him. "Don't jerk, certainly don't pull as hard as you can. I'd rather not have cracked ribs," she warned. "Just pull evenly and firmly and I'll let you know if you need to stop. Ready to give it a try?"

Nick stepped forward, looking at the back of the contraption she was now wearing, and he found himself remembering delivering a baby with her, wondering what other situations he could find himself in with this woman. Taking in a deep breath, he did as she bid him, pulling securely but steadily, working his way down the corset laces. As he tightened them, he found himself answering her questions about his family, realizing at some point that she was trying to put him at ease and succeeding. When the corset was fastened to her liking, she pulled a hoopskirt and petticoats off an adjacent chair, gathering them and letting them cascade over her head and shoulders, the yards of muslin, cotton, and lace gracefully falling around her, eliciting a smile from Nick even as her natural shape disappeared from view. "Something amusing you?" she asked when she noticed his reaction.

"No, I, uh . . ." He looked down at her, seeing the curiosity in her eyes and he shrugged, answering honestly, his voice smooth. "It's nice being around feminine frills again. Talking with a pretty girl. I didn't realize how much I missed it."

She stared at him, surprised at his response and, when he noticed the light blush to her cheeks, he grinned, his dimples deep. Kate suddenly found herself self-conscious in front of Nick as she realized how long it had been since she had the attention of a young man who, under normal circumstances, could have been a much welcomed suitor and she hurried with the buttons of her corset cover. Her eyes darted to the side and she pulled her dress to her, suddenly eager to cover herself as best she could. Pulling the dress on, she turned away from Nick, trying to maintain a semblance of the same level of comfort as she was showing moments before, and she struggled to find something to talk about with him. "We need to know about the little things," she said far too eagerly, inwardly cringing at the tone in her voice, doing the best she could to keep her next words casual. "How do you take your coffee?" she asked as she reached behind her to button her dress.

Nick chuckled. "Black is just fine by me, if I'm on the trail."

She stopped and turned to him, forgetting her discomfort of moments before. "On the trail of what?"

"If I'm out riding the range and we're on a trail drive, moving cattle," he answered, earning her nod in response. "But I don't mind a couple of sugars if it's available. How about you?" he asked, moving behind her, his fingers struggling to feed the buttons through the holes.

She struggled to take easy breaths as his fingers brushed against her and his breath washed down over her bare shoulders. Trying to calm herself, she pulled her hair over one shoulder, her hands coming to rest at her waist. "Black has always suited me just fine." She spoke over her shoulder as Nick's fingers worked down her spine. "Although I had a friend whose family used to add a drop of Irish whiskey to coffee in the evening and I acquired an appreciation for that."

Nick nodded, amused by her comment. "Irish whiskey? I'll try to remember that." He finished the line of buttons, leaning back and checking his handiwork. At the same time, he couldn't help but notice the way the skirts showed off Kate's trim waist or the lovely line that ran from neck to shoulder. He smiled at her when she half turned toward him and her eyes met his.

"Done?" she asked softly.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah," he answered, stepping back from her. She turned and glanced in the mirror, smoothing the front of her dress, tossing her hair back over her shoulder, her careful eye taking in her appearance.

Nick stepped behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders, his eyes meeting hers in their reflections. "You look very pretty. Any man would be proud to claim you as his wife."

Her eyes dropped away from his, than rose back up to meet them again. "You are a charmer, aren't you?"

Once again, he grinned at her, those dimples showing themselves. "Just telling the truth. But is a charming husband a bad thing?"

She had to smile in response, his smile and smooth tone pulling at her core. "I suppose not." She looked back at their reflection, taking careful note of the way they looked together. For one moment, she wondered if she had chosen poorly as she realized what an attractive pair they were and that the combination of the two of them might turn heads. They were far from the inconspicuous pair that was part of the original design. They were young, both good looking, she thought, trying to remain objective. Nick was, in fact, tall enough for people to notice him, his frame long and lean, though his shoulders were too broad for anyone to describe him as wiry. Indeed, he was tall enough to stand almost a head above her which took some doing as most people thought of her as tall. Staring at their reflection with a critical eye, she found herself wondering how others would describe them. A young, striking couple, both dark haired, her eyes blue, his hazel. Picking up some pins from the bureau, she twisted her hair into a chignon, and noted with satisfaction an added air of maturity. Drawing in a slow breath, she considered the difference between the girl she was just days before, hair down, wearing a simple calico dress and the young wife of means staring into the mirror. She looked into the mirror and could see the questions in Nick's eyes and she adopted an easy smile. "We make a nice couple. I must say you're quite dashing in your frock coat," she noted, looking at Nick in his dress uniform.

He studied their reflection with her, sensing her thoughts were far more complicated, but he said simply, "We meet with your approval, I take it?"

"I think so." She glanced over to the mantel clock. "We have some time left. Shall we sit?" she asked, moving to a chair while she gestured toward the bed for Nick. "So, my darling husband, or brother, or whatever you shall be, tell me about our life in California."

Tensions shifted throughout dinner, Kate and Nick joining a select group of senior officers at the dining room table used during the day as a conference table. But now, with the maps and documents cleared, and linen laid out with china and silver at each place, the room took on a very different feel. Even for the senior officers, the presence of Kate changed the dynamics of the meal, all of them reacting differently now that there was a lady in their midst. She smiled when the men all stood when she and Nick entered the room, one of the other officers moving quickly to pull back her chair. Sitting next to each other, the two sharing pleasantries, Kate and Nick couldn't help but occasionally study the other, noticing the little things like how each held a knife and fork as the meal progressed,

At the end of dinner service, the quartermaster appeared with a small box which he passed to General Dodge. He glanced into it, nodding his approval and gestured for it to be taken to Kate. She took it and opened it, gasping her surprise at the assortment of jewelry contained inside it. "Where did all these come from?" she asked.

"Most from captured Rebs. We figure the majority is stolen. There's no way to know the rightful owner."

Kate nodded as she handled some of the rings, gathering up several, wondering at the stories behind them, the notion of so many women having lost rings given to them by husbands, lovers, surely some of them family heirlooms, the possibilities pulling at her heart. Nick leaned over, looking in with her, one gem catching his eye. He flicked away a couple of pieces, pulling out a sapphire ring, then a plain gold band, putting the two together on the end of his little finger, holding them up for her consideration. "What do you think of these two together?"

She glanced at them, then looked at Nick, not hesitating to show her surprise. "I think you have exquisite tastes. And quite expensive at that. I was planning on just a gold band."

He grinned in response. "My wife deserves the best." He pulled the rings off his finger and held them out to her.

Kate slipped them onto her finger and stared down at her hand, murmuring, "They're even a good fit." She closed the lid, turning to the quartermaster, her voice soft as she told him "Thank you."

"Did you need anything else?" asked General Dodge. "Maybe a necklace or earbobs? They might help you look older."

Nick leaned across her and opened the box, pulling out a strand of graduated pearls. "Here. These will complete the look." He stood and stepped behind her before she could object, fixing the clasp at the back of her neck as she fingered the largest pearls at the front.

"It's more than I'm used to wearing," she said softly, glancing up at Nick over her shoulder.

He smiled down at her. "I remember my mother saying every bride should have pearls."

She felt her face grow flush, keeping her hand over her heart as she touched the pearls lightly. She found herself wondering whether General Dodge was right in questioning the wisdom of this, wondering how she had gotten to this place in her life from her fairly ordinary upbringing. She stared up at Nick, feeling certain that he would get her to Washington, she had little doubt of that. But she found herself wondering if she would want to leave his side once they arrived. Part of her knew she could get used to this, to being next to him, to having a man treat her this way – as a woman, a woman who deserved fine things, a woman who had a man pulling out her chair, taking her by the arm as they entered a room. And what a man, a man who was charming, good looking, a man who seemed as though he could do anything. She remembered the days at Benton's Crossing, him without a shirt as he chopped wood, him coming up to the porch to sit with her in the moonlight. The man who had been in her bedroom upstairs, dutifully tightening her corset, then standing behind her, his hands warm on her shoulders, large certain hands that had held her arms and pulled her close earlier in the day just before he kissed her. Was that truly just that day, just hours before? His soft lips so sure against hers. Those kisses, she had fallen asleep thinking about those kisses, about being in his arms, feeling his hands on her body. Hands that were strong, she had felt the strength in the way he pulled the corset strings, felt the strength in his muscles when she laid her hand on his arm, laid her hands on his chest. Yet she knew his hands could be gentle as she remembered him holding Moses when he was born, hands that had reached into Bessie, his long fingers disappearing inside her. Suddenly, she felt her face grow hot and she stared down at the table, one hand flying to her mouth while the other leaned hard on the table, trying to steady herself as she felt the world start to spin. And then Nick was sitting by her side, his face concerned as he held her water glass to her lips. "Drink this," he ordered, waiting for her to take a sip, then he muttered, "You're shaking," putting the glass down, and he pulled his jacket off, sweeping it over her shoulders before she even realized what was happening.

"I'm fine," she insisted, pulling the jacket tight, her breasts aching as her arms closed tight around her. She forced a smile, looking past Nick at General Dodge who was standing at his place. "The last few days are finally catching up to me, I think."

"Are you all right to travel?" he asked, his concern apparent.

"I'll be fine. Really," she said again.

"Perhaps you should put off leaving?" he suggested.

She swallowed hard and glanced out of the corner of her eye at Nick, thinking to herself that additional time wouldn't make the thoughts she was having go away. She lifted her chin and called on her reserves to present a calm demeanor. "No, I think leaving tonight as planned would be best."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

They traveled into the night, a small squad of men accompanying them north, the plan being that they would reach the Yazoo River and board a Union transport, travel along the Yazoo for a short stint to the Mississippi. From there, they would go north on a second Union boat to the east shore across from St. Louis where they would be able to transfer to a train to take them across the country to Washington. When they reached the bluffs at the Yazoo River, Nick pulled on the reins of the buggy, and he and Kate stared out across the dozens of Union gun ships docked along the side of the narrow river. The level of force seemed overwhelming when they thought about Vicksburg trying to hold out without supplies, the city completely cut off from reinforcements. "Do you think Vicksburg will fall soon?" Kate asked softly.

"Can't see how they'll be able to hold out much longer," came Nick's easy reply as he thought on the never ending bombardment. If anything, the question had been how the city, its residents and its protectors had held out as long as they had.

"I'm sorry I'm pulling you away from this. I know most soldiers want to be in the thick of things."

He looked over to her, appreciating her concern for him. "I figure we've all got our part. Getting you back to Washington, safe and sound, is just my newest command. There'll be plenty of fighting left when I'm done."

He slapped the reins down once more, clicking to the horses, finally reaching the small supply boat that would carry them to the Mississippi. From there, they would transfer to another Union boat that would take a little more than two days to get them to St. Louis. Few other boats plied the Mississippi River these days other than Union Army boats, the wide swath of brown water flowing steadily past the boats laden with supplies and men for the Union Army, the boats ferrying back and forth from North to South and back again. Once Vicksburg fell, the Union would have control of the length of the Mississippi, ensuring ready passage deep into Confederate territory, cutting access from the West, cutting off most of Louisiana, Arkansas, Missouri and Texas from the rest of the Confederacy.

Nick and Kate transferred to the steamship that would take them to St. Louis, the crew using the fading light to quickly load the main cargo they would take North - wounded soldiers who were not likely to return to fighting. The men lay on litters, waiting to be carried into rooms that had once held rich velvet drapes and cushioned furniture, dark wood paneled rooms that had been ladies' and gentlemen's parlors, smoking rooms and gaming rooms that had been privy to days long poker games where men had wiled away hours of travel from one city to the next. Now, these rooms held men who pined for the day when they had two good arms or two good eyes, when they could remember what happened the day before instead of things being a blur. Whereas the rooms had been filled with the tinkling of glasses, laughter and ready conversation, the sounds escaping into the passageway now were the groans of men who fought to heal, the thump of wooden legs and crutches as men tried to maneuver, the cursing of men in pain and the occasional muffled sob of a man who wondered whether it would have been better to die on the battlefield than live on like this.

The two drew stares as they boarded the boat, Kate, the lone woman aboard; Nick, close by her side, one hand firmly at her elbow. Walking past the stretchers sent both of them into quiet reflection about their own contributions and the sacrifices that they had made up until that point, their own deprivations paling in light of the conditions of most of the men aboard. When they presented themselves to the captain, he looked at them with disdain, chewing on a cigar before addressing them. "I don't cotton to having a woman aboard," he said plainly. "And what's more, even if I did, we're not set up to have women aboard. I'm still not sure why you're getting such special treatment."

Kate stared back at the man, calmly replying, "I don't think I've asked for special treatment."

The captain regarded her cynically, rolling the cigar between his fingers. "You being here is special treatment enough. If you look around, you're not going to find any other civilians running around my vessel."

Kate nodded, her voice pleasant but her face not betraying any emotion. "Then I won't bother looking."

Nick stood tall, trying to run interference for Kate. "Captain, Generals Grant and Dodge have their reasons for sending her on military transport and while everyone understands that having her on board will cause inconveniences, we're willing to do whatever it takes to make things work. Having said that, where are we bunking for the next couple of days?"

The captain eyed her again, then turned to look at Nick. "As far as I knew, we were getting two officers to take to St. Louis. I was planning on you bunking with the other officers, but there aren't enough beds to go around for you to have one of your own. We normally sleep in shifts."

"That's fine by me, Captain," Kate answered. "If you'll direct us to the officer's quarters, is it alright if I take whatever bunk isn't currently occupied?"

"I can't have a woman in quarters!"

"Well, Sir, I would prefer not to sleep on deck. But if that would prove more convenient for you, I'm sure that would be fine as well."

The ship's captain stared at her, puffing on his cigar, blowing smoke in her direction, noting that she didn't acknowledge it as it wafted across her. He looked back down to the directive signed by General Grant that Nick had given him then back up at Kate, looking her up and down with a cynical stare. "Franklin!" he called out.

A member of the crew stepped away from the area where the men lay on litters and hurried toward them. "Yes, Captain?"

Once more, the Captain glanced back down at the directive, his thumb moving across the seal. "The lady here is with us to St. Louis. Check the stateroom next to the Doctors' quarters, see if the berths were pulled out of it. If not, she can have that room. If the berths were pulled, hang a hammock in there. Barkley, is it? You can take any bunk in the officer's quarters that doesn't have a body in it."

Nick threw a quick glance in Kate's direction. "Thank you, Captain, but my orders are to stay with her. If there's more than one berth in the stateroom, I'll take it. If not, the floor is fine by me." Kate was surprised by his comment, but steeled her features so that she showed nothing, maintaining a cool demeanor.

The Captain narrowed his eyes, staring at Nick, then at Kate then back at Nick. "Stay with her? These orders don't say anything about that. Is she your prisoner?"

"No, Sir, not a prisoner. But I've been ordered to guard her just the same."

The Captain returned his gaze to Kate, slowly studying the length of her. "If anyone gets to share a bunk with a woman on my vessel, it's going to be me."

Nick took a half step to the side, deftly moving Kate just behind him. He squared his shoulders, his face hardening into a mask, his voice taking on a sharp edge. "My assignment is to make sure she gets to Washington safely and that's what I mean to do. No one's sharing a bunk with her."

The two men stared coldly at each other, Nick refusing to back down to the senior officer, finally pulling away his gaze when the sailor named Franklin cleared his throat, saying "If you'll follow me," leading them to a stairway, stopping only to take a lantern, speaking over his shoulder as he headed down the stairs. "You might want to watch your step, Miss; the stairs are mighty steep. It can be easier to come down them backwards." He led them through the darkened passageways, finally coming to a stop. The cabin he entered was empty of furnishings, the lantern casting everything in an eerie yellow light. Holding it high, he let out a sigh and offered Nick and Kate a slight smile before he walked to one wall. "They pull everything out of these ships so we can fit in more cargo. Ammunition, food, uniforms, you name it. Sometimes men as tight as we can stuff 'em in but from the smell of it, this one hasn't had soldiers in it yet. It's easy enough to pull out chairs and tables, but the berths are mounted on the wall," he offered, pulling a handle and pulling down the lower berth. "This ones a little wider, I s'pose it could fit two people if it had to," he said, throwing a quick glance toward Nick and Kate, Nick's glare making his blood run cold. "Although, look here," he added quickly, "there's a second bunk up top," he said as he pulled down the upper berth. "Looks like the mattresses are still there. I can get you some sheets for you to make them up."

"Don't feel the need to go to any trouble," Kate replied.

"No, Ma'am. No trouble. We have plenty of linens on board and I'll see about bringing you another lamp, too." He hung the lantern on a hook near the door and hurried from the room, leaving the lantern as he knew the ship well enough to navigate its halls in the dark.

Nick and Kate both looked around as best they could in the dim light, Nick dropping their bags in a corner of the room.

"Must have been pretty at one time," Kate offered.

Nick watched her from across the room. "Kate, up on deck, there was something about the Captain, it seemed a good idea for me to be close, but if you'd rather I stay in another room – "

She waved away his objections. "No, this is fine. It'll be a good transition until we're on the train. You know, when we have to pretend." She hesitated, glancing toward the door. "And frankly, there's something about the Captain that rubbed me the wrong way, too. It seems we were of the same mind. Having you here in the room strikes me as a good idea."

Nick harumphed his agreement as he glanced around the empty room. "One thing's for certain, a completely empty room doesn't allow for much privacy. Just let me know and I'll, well, I'll step out to the hall."

She smiled at his thoughtfulness. "Thanks, Nick." Stifling a yawn, she started to unbutton her jacket, glancing around at the walls to see if there were any hooks, even a stray nail. Seeing a bit of a reflection from one wall, she walked over to it, glad when she found the brass hook and she hung her jacket from it. "Want to take your coat off, Nick? You must be warm," she commented, walking over to the small round windows, pushing it open as wide as she could.

He nodded, pulling off his jacket, the white shirt yellow in the lamp light and he quickly undid the four buttons of the bib, pulling the cotton away from his body, trying to get some air to his damp chest and back. Nick had started rolling his sleeves back when they heard footsteps in the hall, and they turned back to the door as Franklin walked back in, sheets folded over one arm, the promised second lantern in the other hand. He glanced around the room, finding another hook and hung the second lantern, then set the sheets on the lower bunk. "We're going to be leaving the dock soon. Weather's clear so the river should be smooth, should be an easy night. Officer's mess and the head are just down the hall."

"Thank you," Kate said, her voice sincere as she moved to pick up the sheet on top the stack.

"Here, let me help you with that," offered Nick as the crew member disappeared into the hall, closing the door behind him.

Kate glanced at the two berths. "Do you have a preference for which bed? The lower definitely looks bigger, it might be more comfortable for you."

Nick grinned down at her. "And how are you planning on getting in and out of the top?"

Kate glanced at both bunks, then turned to Nick with a smile. "Or I can take the lower bunk."

"Uh huh," he answered, the two of them getting their beds made up for the night. They were just finishing when the boat lurched to one side and the two of them rocked, neither having sea legs yet, and Nick grabbed for Kate's arm to steady her and she grabbed for Nick, the two of them suddenly standing in each other's arms. Their faces were mere inches apart and they stared at one another, the two of them uncomfortably close. Nick was the first to push away. "Guess we're away from the dock," he said softly, moving away from her to glance out the porthole.

Kate blew out a slow breath. "I suppose." She glanced around the room. "If you don't mind, I'd like to try and get some sleep."

"Do you want me to step out?" Nick offered.

"Actually," Kate answered softly, "I could use your help with the buttons in the back of this dress."

"Oh. Yeah, sure," Nick muttered, stepping behind her, studying the line of buttons, trying to concentrate as the fabric opened, revealing her soft, white skin. "You need me to undo the corset, too?" he asked, trying to keep his tone easy.

"No, thank you," she answered, feeling her cheeks flush. "Once it's tied, there are hooks in front."

"Oh, right. I mean, I guess so," he stammered and she had to smile, loving the way he was so easily flustered. She glanced over her shoulder, staring at the young man who she realized she barely knew, yet felt so comfortable with, and she sensed that in some ways he was still a boy, even though there were times he was so clearly a self confident man. "What?" he asked as she stared at him.

She shook her head. "You're so different when it's just the two of us. Earlier, with the Captain, you were so sure of yourself and, well, not that you're not sure of yourself now . . ."

He stared down at her, wondering if she had any idea of the effect she had on him. He thought about the numbers of times just that day alone he had felt his body respond and the struggle it had been to control his emotions and his body, reminding himself all the while of his duty. And the General's warnings. Taking in a deep breath, he shrugged, "Just trying to be a gentleman."

His deep voice washed over her and she felt a shiver go up through her body. Staring up at him, she wondered if he had any idea what effect he had on her. She loved it when he took charge with the Captain, was so strong and in control, and he was so sweet and dear when he fumbled with the buttons on the back of her dress, but it was those moments when he was at ease that shook her to her core. The moment when he reached out to catch her when the boat lurched, the moment when he declared himself a gentleman that spoke of what lay underneath and she had to wonder just what he would do, could do and had done in times when he wasn't a gentleman, what would happen if he ever chose to throw caution to the wind. Something about him told her that his being a gentleman was a choice he made and she wondered what the other options were. She knew that he said it to make her feel at ease, but she couldn't help but feel all the more self-conscious. Pushing those feelings away, she moved away from Nick, keeping her back toward him as she pulled the dress over her head, hanging it from one of the hooks. Fighting to keep her breaths even, she made a decision to keep more of her clothes on than she might have otherwise and she fumbled to undo the hoopskirt while keeping the petticoat on, finally succeeding in letting the hoops drop, the edge of the petticoat puddled around her feet. Slipping her hands up under her corset cover, she unhooked the corset and slid it out from between the other two layers of fabric, taking in several much needed deep breaths, subtly stretching and bending her body now free of its confines.

Nick glanced over his shoulder and found himself watching with interest, part of his curiosity piqued out of basic needs and desires, the curves of her body exciting and tempting him, but another part of his brain, albeit much smaller, was intrigued by the notion that she suddenly seemed far more physically comfortable, the idea never before occurring to him that the young women he knew were continuously uncomfortable just from the clothes they wore. He knew for himself that the wool jackets the army wore could be itchy, hot, and sometimes just damned annoying; he much preferred the comfort of his ranch clothes to the suits and starched shirts he had to wear Sundays, but these torture contraptions that women wore, he couldn't imagine having to put up with those all day. He turned his back to Kate, busying himself with his nightly routine – checking his pistol to make sure it was clean and ready to be used, making a mental inventory of what tomorrow would bring and he started to separate out his belongings into bundles of things that he'd have to pack and ship to Washington and the clothes and other articles he'd carry with him.

He heard the creak of the berth and turned to see Kate pulling the covers up around her and the two exchanged nervous smiles before Nick leaned up against the wall, trying to toe out of his boots. Kate sat up and watched him curiously for a minute, her voice amused when she spoke. "Would you like to sit at the end of my bed?"

"What's that?" he asked, his eyes questioning hers.

"I suspect getting your boots off would be a whole lot easier if you sat down."

"I s'pose, but . . ." He stared at her, then down at the end of the bed wondering if she had any idea how tempted he was to ignore the very clear orders General Dodge had given him.

She smiled over at him. "I wouldn't normally invite a man to sit on my bed, especially while I'm in it, but then again, I normally don't have men in my room. I'll do my best to control myself, I promise," she teased, even as she scooted her legs toward the wall, leaving plenty of room for Nick to sit. He hesitated, knowing that sitting there on her bed would be perfectly harmless even if it did violate all kinds of social conventions, but something about it screamed that he was tempting fate. He stared at her, sensing that her nonchalance was as much an act as he was feeling but that she was trying to make things easier, not harder, and he smiled to reassure her and moved toward the bed, sitting at the far end of it, pulling off his boots, tucking them under the end of Kate's bed, then pulled his belt free from his pants, curling the leather strap and tucking it into one of his boots before he padded over and blew out the lanterns. He climbed up into the top berth, sitting there to pull his shirt over his head, reminding himself that keeping his pants on seemed to be a really good idea as he tossed the shirt down near his feet.

He could tell by the sound of her breathing that it took her several minutes to finally drop off, the gentle rocking of the boat soothing each of them, lulling them to sleep like a baby's cradle. But sleep was not to last for them. Nick first awoke to Kate's tossing and turning, the movement of the bottom bunk causing a slight jarring at the top, enough to wake Nick. He lay quietly for a moment, trying to identify what had happened and finally he rolled to his side, looking down through the dark to the bottom bunk, calling Kate's name softly. That seemed to calm her and he took in a deep breath, rolling onto his back, his arm dropping over his forehead as he waited for sleep to claim him once again. He lay there, letting his body sink into the mattress and thought about how long it had been since he had such creature comforts as a bed, a mattress and clean sheets and he wondered about the sleeping conditions of most on board. He knew parts of the boat were used as a floating infirmary but suspected most of the patients did not have anything close to the comparative luxury he and Kate were enjoying. Clean sheets – he suspected those were taken from a supply normally reserved for the sick. And mattresses – no telling how few people aboard actually had a soft bed waiting for them. He realized his eyes were closing and let out an easy yawn as he crossed one foot over the other and crossed his arms behind his head, telling himself to enjoy it while he could.

He woke once again to her tossing and turning, this time accompanied by soft whimpers rising from her bed. He sat bolt upright at the sound of her soft cries and peered down through the darkness, his first concern that someone was hurting her. Assuring himself that no one was there, he tried calling out her name, and watched her twitch in response, but her sleep remained troubled. When the whimper turned into a tortured moan, he dropped from the top berth and hesitated as he stood next to the bed, wondering what he should do next, relieved at least that he had convinced her she didn't need to sleep with a loaded pistol. Leaning down, he started to reach for her shoulder to give it a light shake but she twisted in her sleep and he found himself pulling his hand back before he touched parts of her he knew he shouldn't. He hesitated for another moment, before he crouched down next to the bed, able to grab the hand closest to him, rubbing it between his own hands.

"Hey, Kate! Wake up!" he whispered. She woke suddenly, pulling her hand from his, retreating back to the wall as she tried to get her bearings. "It's Nick," he said softly, trying to reassure her. "We're on the boat, heading for St. Louis, remember?" She peered at him through the darkness, then dropped her head into her hands, her breath fast and heavy as her knees pulled in to her chest. Nick stood and lit one of the lanterns, dropping the flame low. Stepping back to the side of the berths, he looked back at her, his concern obvious. "Kate? You ok?"

She lifted her face and he could see the tears glistening in her eyes. "I was having a nightmare about Jack." She hesitated and caught her breath. "Oh, Nick, it was horrible. When I found him – " Her next words died in her throat as she choked back a sob and she dropped her face back into her cradled hands.

Nick stared at her and sensed immediately that it wasn't a bad dream that was disturbing her sleep, rather that she was reliving an all too real nightmare. He glanced back up to his bed, grabbed his shirt and pulled it back on, not bothering to button it or tuck it in, then crouched down next to the bed, uncertain of what to do next. He stared at her for several seconds, his heart aching for her as he realized she was trembling uncontrollably, and finally, when he couldn't take it anymore, he sat on the edge of the bed and leaned across, patting her shoulder, then her back. When she turned toward him, leaning her head against his arm, he shifted and pulled her into his embrace, holding her tight, trying to mutter words that he knew, even as he said them, would offer little comfort. They sat together in the dim light and Kate shared with Nick what had happened, how she had come back to the house at their new location to find Jack swinging from a tree, his clothes and skin charred, the stench of burning flesh still in the air. There was no way to know how they had been found out, but from where she sat and watched and listened as the locals boys crowed about their accomplishment of killing an old man, she knew that they were already on the lookout for her, too, although she left out the details of the things they were planning for her. She continued on with her story, insisting to Nick that she knew Jack was dead or she wouldn't have left him and how she had fought the urge to run screaming from the site, instead sitting as quietly as possible, hiding, for what seemed like an eternity while she surveyed her surroundings, making sure it was safe for her to leave the area without being seen. She had traveled for three days, mostly at night, staying well off the road before she reached the outskirts of Vicksburg and the relative safety of the Union camp.

Nick listened quietly as she told her story, at some point the two of them shifting so that Nick was sitting at the head of Kate's bed with his back up against the wall, one leg stretched long on the bed, one foot on the floor, Kate snuggled into his side as he held her close, her body under the sheet, his on top of it.

"I keep seeing it over and over, every time I close my eyes." She shuddered as she spoke, her voice soft.

"Try to think about the better times," he urged.

"I try, but . . ." Her voice quieted and she shook her head in response.

Nick looked down at her, his fingers lightly dusting her arm and shoulder. "I've wondered. Was Jack your real uncle?"

She let out a soft sigh. "No. Jack was someone who wanted to help, like me. He was such a gentle soul."

Nick nodded. "I remember."

Kate let out another slow breath, hesitating before she continued. "He was a Catholic brother, not quite a priest, but not a monk." She looked up into Nick's surprised face and smiled, then settled back into the crook of his arm. "He'd been a missionary with the Indians but realized there were souls in torment in what was his own back yard when he was growing up."

Nick's face contorted when he thought about it. "His own people lynched him?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "We weren't in his hometown, but in a part of the country where he'd spent time growing up. Close enough for him to be comfortable, far enough away that no one had any feelings for him. We never saw anyone who actually knew him, they couldn't have known him," she insisted. "Anyone who ever met him . . . he was so peaceful and kind. And the very idea that anyone would . . . I don't know if I can ever get that sight out of my mind."

Nick felt another shudder pass through her and he tightened his hold on her then let out a slow breath. "After the first battle I was in, I remember thinking I would never sleep again. Seemed like you'd close your eyes and start hearing the noises, the whistle of bullets flying, the boom of the canon, the screams of the men who were hurt. And for me, it was Bob Scranton. I still remember the look on his face, like he'd been caught by surprise, except his eyes weren't seeing anything anymore."

She stared up into his face. "How long before you got over it?"

He shrugged lightly, quickly chewing on his lower lip. "Got over it? I don't I know that I have. Some things, you just have to figure out to accept it and move on. The first time a good friend died, I didn't want to believe it. Since then, I hear someone died in battle, I don't even question it anymore. You can't. There just isn't time and it doesn't help to deny it."

She stared up at him, her heart aching that someone so young would have learned to accept death as easily as that. "When were you able to sleep again?"

Nick shook his head as he stroked the hair that flowed down her back. "You're not the only one who sleeps with a loaded pistol, you know." He let out a soft sigh, his eyes taking on a faraway look. "Used to be, back home on the ranch, I'd have my turn on guard duty at night every so often, out sitting with the herd, riding round up, things like that. I could always stay awake, no problem, but the next night," he chuckled, "I'd sleep hard." His tone turned serious again almost immediately. "Now, I just never seem to catch up. Sometimes I think when the war ends that I'll sleep for a year."

She stifled a yawn. "I can't picture you sleeping a year away but I know what you mean. I've had more than my share of sleepless nights myself these last several months. But this is different. Every time I close my eyes . . ." He felt a shiver pass through her again and he tightened his hold on her for several moments.

"You realize, there's probably a couple dozen or more men who pulled guard duty stationed up top, so you should be extra safe." He smoothed the hair down her back again then rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. "Go ahead and close your eyes. If those men aren't enough, I'm here to make sure you stay safe tonight."

She yawned again but smiled at the thought of Nick doing what a couple dozen men couldn't and she settled into his side, shifting her body the slightest bit. "Like sitting out with the herd, huh?" she asked, forcing her mind to think about the life Nick described, anything to get her mind off the last few days.

He chuckled lightly. "Not quite. Never had a bed sitting out with the herd," he jested, earning a chuckle from her in response. "Or a girl in my arms."

He immediately regretted the last sentence when he felt her stiffen and shift away from him. "I'm sorry, Nick. I'll let you get some sleep."

He pulled her back down against him, his tone one he might have used when Audra took something the wrong way. "Now, that's not what I meant. You stay where you are."

He continued to lightly stroke her back and heard her let out a contented sigh. "Mmm, that's nice," she whispered, her breath shifting within minutes letting Nick know she had indeed fallen into an exhausted sleep. Only then did he let out the shuddered sigh as he shook his head, then he swallowed hard as he thought about what could have happened to her had she been caught, or could still happen to her. He knew the trouble that could befall a woman left defenseless, but a woman who was spying for the other side, you just never knew what a man would do to avenge the death of friends, of brothers, of comrades in arms.

He stared down at her, her face finally calm. There were times she seemed so bold, so brave and yet, now, to look at her, she seemed so fragile. She wasn't like most girls he knew, although she did occasionally remind him of Mother and Audra. A fleeting smile crossed his face as he thought of his own mother and sister. Mother would like her, he knew that. She would like her spunk, her independence. So would Audra. But just as he knew his mother would respect the work she was doing, he could picture her eyebrow raising, her head tilting slightly to one side at the idea that this young woman had enlisted Nick's help in dressing and undressing. He could hear her reproachful tone of "Oh, AUDRA! Really?!" if his little sister pulled a stunt like that and he had to smile at the thought of it. But quickly, he thought of what he would do if his mother or sister were in danger the way that Kate was and he knew that he would do anything to protect any one of the three of them. Once more, he glanced down at the dark hair that felt so soft as his fingers combed through it, then he softly stroked her arm that lay on his chest, seeming so delicate even as his fingers ran over the hint of muscles lying under the smooth, white skin. He thought about dropping a light kiss on the top of her head, but chewed his bottom lip instead and let his own head drop back against the wall, his eyes closing as he listened to her easy breaths, the pattern of his own chest rising and falling becoming slower until they lay there peacefully, sleeping together, looking like two young lovers without a care. Anyone looking in at them would see no trace of the danger that surrounded them, no indication that they were caught in the middle of war.


	7. Chapter 7

**My apologies for the delay in this posting but that crazy real life took precedence. This is a short post, but longer posts are definitely in store. A huge thanks goes out to all of you who have left their reviews and comments.**

**When we left this story, Nick and Kate were in her lower berth on a Union boat heading up the Mississippi.**

_Once more, he glanced down at the dark hair that felt so soft as his fingers combed through it, then he softly stroked her arm that lay on his chest, seeming so delicate even as his fingers ran over the hint of muscles lying under the smooth, white skin. He thought about dropping a light kiss on the top of her head, but chewed his bottom lip instead and let his own head drop back against the wall, his eyes closing as he listened to her easy breaths, the pattern of his own chest rising and falling becoming slower until they lay there peacefully, sleeping together, looking like two young lovers without a care. Anyone looking in at them would see no trace of the danger that surrounded them, no indication that they were caught in the middle of war._

Chapter Seven

Nick woke to a world of contradictions. On the one hand, he could hardly remember the last time he slept in a real bed and he would have liked to have stayed in it for as long as he could, but he very quickly realized that he had to get out of that bed as soon as he could. But getting out of bed would take some maneuvering due to the girl sleeping on his arm. Nick glanced over at her, noting her dark hair splayed across the pillow, her face slightly upturned toward him as she slept, her lips and cheeks pink and beckoning.

He'd never woken up with a girl in his bed, or, as it were, he'd never woken up with a girl in her bed and while his body screamed for him to roll over and use his free arm to pull her closer, his mind told him to figure out a way to free that trapped arm and do it quick. He started to roll over, hoping to be able to pull his arm from under her, but let out a low moan as he realized how much more difficult it was going to be to deal with the unconscious reaction of his 19 year old body when there was a lady present. Not that he hadn't woken up in the same state most mornings without a girl there, but having a girl at his side and not being able to do anything about it struck him as plain wrong. Swallowing hard, he redoubled his efforts to concentrate on the trapped arm, to concentrate on anything but her, and he was able to scoot to the edge of the bed and pull his arm mostly free. Determined to free the rest of his arm, he shifted his weight, pushing up on the trapped elbow, then placing his free arm on the other side of her head, holding himself up over her as he pulled his forearm and hand free, moving so carefully as he was trying his best not to disturb her sleep, but moving just enough that he caused Kate to rouse, her face just inches from his, her eyes batting their way awake as she stared up at him kneeling over her. Her eyes quickly took in the situation and she asked coolly, "Is there an explanation for why we are as we are?"

Nick flashed back to their first meeting when her stare was so hard and he found himself not quite sure how to explain. "We uh, well, we fell asleep."

Her brow furrowed as she glanced at Nick's body looming over hers and the sliver of space between them as she slid the sheet up. "Like this?" she asked, her voice incredulous but still soft.

"Well, no," Nick stammered. "That is, you fell asleep on my arm. It was caught," he insisted.

Her eyes darted from the arm firmly planted on the left side of her head to that on the right. "They both look to be free now," she replied, the implication that he could move clear in her tone.

Nick quickly pushed back away from her, but in so doing knocked his head hard against the bottom of the top bunk, and he instinctively clutched the back of his head, dropping back onto the bed and her, and just as quickly, as if he'd fallen on hot coals, pushed his body up and away, unceremoniously falling onto the floor.

Kate rolled to her side, her eyes wide, and losing the battle to fight back a laugh, she stared wide eyed at him. "Are you okay?"

Nick looked up sheepishly, joining her in laughing at himself. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Kate shook her head at the absurdity of the situation, gifting him with a smile as she sat up on the edge of the bed. "Nick, Nick, Nick. In the last 24 hours, you have given your word to an army general that you would be on your best behavior and assured a naval captain that no one would be sharing my bunk. What do you plan on telling the Marines if they make an appearance? Just so I can know what to expect next." Nick dropped his head down as he sat on the floor, feeling the blood rush to his face and he fought to put together an apology, looking back up at her when he felt her tousle his hair as she stepped past him. "You're sweet. What say we get dressed and head to breakfast?"

Nick and Kate dressed quickly and went to the Officers' Galley, the two of them glad when they saw that the Captain was not amongst the men gathered for breakfast. Upon seeing Kate, the naval officers stood, nodding to Kate, exchanging salutes and then shaking hands with Nick. Nick watched as Kate charmed them, his curiosity piqued when he realized the difference in her demeanor. The trace of a Southern accent was gone, replaced by an accent he association with the Eastern seaboard. _Boston_, he thought, remembering she had once said something about being in Boston. The cold, hard woman he had first met in the swamp was gone, as was the traumatized young girl from the night before. As he watched her, he thought about the forthright woman he had watched negotiate with General Dodge, a woman who seemed to know what she wanted and wasn't afraid of standing up to Union General to get it. Watching her with the naval officers, he remembered the young woman from the porch, a woman who gave very little information about herself while having entire conversations with the others at the table. Leaning forward on the table, he found himself wondering who this woman was and what she was like when her guard was down.

Since neither Nick nor Kate had any duties aboard ship, they spent the morning visiting with the wounded, writing letters for the injured or providing what small comfort they could. Nick watched Kate, knowing even from across the room that her touch was gentle, her tone soothing. He started to reflect on how honest and sincere her eyes were but caught himself and remembered that while he had no doubt that she was at times sincere, that it was as easy for her to lie to a man as it was for her to breathe. Seeing her draw out even the most reticent of men, he saw that whether she was talking to officers or enlisted men, she was equally adept she was at getting people to talk about themselves and deliver information and he thought about how, for many men, himself included, talking to a pretty girl who was hanging on a man's every word could prove irresistible. Watching her, he realized why General Dodge would consider her such a valuable asset and he had no doubt in his mind why the general wanted to be sure she got to Washington safely.

For his part, Nick sat back and talked with the men, shared the latest news from Vicksburg and swapped war stories with them. Kate watched from across the room and noticed that, at times, when stories about the war seemed to touch a raw nerve, Nick would change the subject, regaling the other men with stories about ranching and the West, much as he had done with her the night before. A few times, Kate was close enough that she could listen in and she found herself sitting forward in her seat, listening intently as he described lassoing a mustang and the power of the tug on the rope, or the earth shaking as cattle threatened to stampede around you, and at one point, she felt the pangs of homesickness for the grandeur of the snow capped mountains of the Rockies even though she had never seen them. It was easy to be swept away in Nick's stories, the adventures he described seeming to always have a happy ending, something so different than the experiences of the injured men on the boat.

As they walked to the Officer's mess for dinner that night, strolling in the open air of the deck, Kate gave Nick a sidelong glance. "So the story about getting caught in the snow storm, how much of that was truth and how much was make believe?"

Nick laughed openly, looking down at her. "Well, if that isn't the pot calling the kettle black?!"

She stepped in front of him and turned so she could look him straight on and started walking backwards as she said, "Now, wait just a minute – " but she was distracted by an odd sound and the splintering of wood flying from the wall of the ship. She began to turn in the direction of the falling wood chips but instead fell against the wooden deck of the ship, Nick dropping solidly atop her. Kate began to push him away, but he didn't budge, instead drawing her more firmly underneath him, barking out "Stay down!" his gravelly voice brooking no argument in a tone she quickly remembered from the swamp when his men didn't follow an order fast enough or to his satisfaction. Seemingly out of nowhere, there were pounding feet running past them, men yelling, and Nick grabbing her by the waist, half guiding, half carrying her through the closest door. As Nick barreled inside, a sailor taking aim at the shore crumbled just outside the doorway. Keeping low, Nick made sure Kate was well inside the room and he growled, "Stay here," before he went back to the door, pulling the wounded man in, depositing him next to Kate, then grabbing the hurt sailor's rifle and heading back outside.

Kate frantically looked around the room for something to stop the flow of blood, glancing up in time to see Nick's reflection in a mirror and she watched as he scanned the river bank, then suddenly set the rifle against his shoulder and fired. Even though she couldn't see Nick's face and she could hear shots firing from all around, she knew the moment when his shot found its mark. There was something that changed for the briefest of moments in the set of his shoulders, the way he held his head. And then he transferred the rifle from one hand to the others, letting the barrel point down at the ground almost casually, as if it were a part of himself.

His eyes darted back to the door and he strode quickly to Kate's side, dropping down next to her. "Are you all right?" he asked, the angry tone insisting on an immediate answer.

"I'm fine," she spat out, "but he's not."

Nick turned, calling over his shoulder to no one in particular, "We have a wounded man here," his booming voice ringing out and, as if by magic, the room was filled with people. A medic came in to take care of the wounded and, as other marksman came in from outside, Nick stood and demanded of one of the naval officers, "Why didn't you tell us there were snipers?"

"What? Of course, there are snipers. Why would you think the river is any different from a convoy on a country road?"

Nick blew out a heavy breath, knowing that he had depended on the security of the boat and that he had let his guard down. He promised himself that it wouldn't happen again.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

The next morning, Kate startled as Nick pulled on his Union frock coat. "Why are you pulling on your uniform? We should be docking in Illinois this morning."

Nick barely glanced in her direction. "I decided it would be better if people could tell I was a Union officer."

"You decided?"

"I have orders to get you to Washington – "

"The plan was for us to travel as civilians so as not to draw attention."

"The plan was to use whatever we thought would work best. It just so happens that I think my staying in uniform would work best."

"You think so?" Kate responded drily.

"That's right."

"What about what I think?"

"The General ordered me to get you to Washington – "

"The General ordered you because I picked you. The General ordered you on my request."

"Well, if I was good enough the other day – "

"Look, if I need a sniper shot, you're the man I want. And feel free not to ask my advice on that. But if you have a plan and if I need to depend on that plan, I'd like to know what it is in advance!"

"Excuse me for saying so, but your plans don't seem to have always worked so well in Mississippi." As soon as the words escaped his lips, Nick regretted saying them. Kate had a look in her eye that he knew he'd seen in Vicksburg and it tore at his heart. "I'm sorry, Kate," he said, the contrition ringing in his voice, "I shouldn't have said it."

"No, you shouldn't," she replied somberly. "Although, that doesn't mean it isn't true." She stood apart from Nick and considered him cautiously. "Okay, so let's hear it. Why the change?"

Nick cocked one arm along the top bunk, leaning against it. "I've been thinking about it and there's no reason to think the sniper from yesterday had anything to do with you, and we'll be in Union territory for the next three or four days it should take us to get to Washington, but just suppose something does go wrong . . . I want to be able to call on the power of Union Army and I don't want to have to waste time explaining why they should listen to me."

"But what if we run into Confederate troops?"

"Kate, I don't know how long you've been in the South, so I know you must be used to being surrounded by Confederates with only the occasional Union troops, but the only time the Confederates have made it into Northern territory was Antietam last fall, and even then they got driven back. We're not going to be anywhere close to the South and I'm sure all you'll see is blue."

She nodded her head in agreement, then looked up at him and said "Cincinnati" without much enthusiasm and Nick chuckled in response.

"No one's mounting an assault through Kentucky across the Ohio," he answered derisively.

"Yeah, I know." She thought about it for a minute, then glanced back at Nick. "With you in uniform, what will we tell people about traveling together?"

He hesitated before answering. "What do you want to tell them?"

"Assuming we take a train from the east of St. Louis, the next really big city is," she hesitated, looking to him and they both nodded and said together, "Cincinnati," then she continued. "If we stay on the train as much as possible, don't get any rooms together, it shouldn't matter whether you and I are brother and sister, husband and wife, or if you're my military escort."

"Nope, it shouldn't."

"And the quicker you get me to Washington, the quicker you get back to your regiment."

"Yep. Although, Kate, if someone on the train asks?"

She let out a heavy breath. "We promised General Dodge we wouldn't pretend to be married unless we had to. Let's go with the truth, as shocking as that may seem, that you're my military escort. We can say that I'm a major's daughter, your commander's, and you're making sure I'm getting across the country safe."

"Why not a General's daughter?"

Her eyes met his and she answered without hesitation. "Too important. There are too few of them and they're too well known. And, if by some chance, we met up with Confederate forces, I'd be too big a bargaining chip." Nick smiled as he looked down at her, liking the way her mind worked. But his smile quickly faded as she added, "But Nick, don't become complacent. If I call you Darling, assume I've made a change and am going with our being married."

They traveled without incident for the first few days from the Mississippi to Pittsburgh, the train ride long, dusty, hot, and noisy without even a hint of the lost glamour or luxury that had been present on the Mississippi steamship even in what the railroad purported to be first class accommodations. After a couple of nights on a hard board with depot meals that, while filling, frequently left much to be desired, they found themselves shifting in the uncomfortable seats. Kate sat toward the wall of the car, or as close as she could get to it with the hoop skirts flattened around her, tucked in as best as she could get them, and she waved another bit of dust through the open window while Nick again stretched one long leg down the aisle, then glanced once more under the seat in front of him to see if there was any way to straighten the other leg before sending it, too, out into the aisle.

Kate smiled at the effort. "We're on our last day of traveling. We should be able to make Washington this afternoon and then you can get back to your unit. It hasn't been too bad, has it?"

"Nah," he answered, returning her smile, and he quickly looked to the other passengers in the car, most of them spread out in the sparsely populated First Class car, and crossing his arms while he leaned back, then crossing one ankle over the other, he settled in his seat and turned to Kate. "So what's next for you?" he asked softly.

"I'm not really sure. I might reassess where my strengths lie, how I can serve best. And what about you? Back toward Mississippi?"

"Maybe. Wherever they send me. But I suspect the company won't be as pretty," he said, earning a smile from her. "The days will probably be more eventful."

"You're not used to sitting, are you?" she asked.

"Nope. Not much call for it in the Army or on the ranch."

"What about when you're on a horse back on the ranch?"

"On a horse is different," he answered without hesitation. "See, normally, you're on a horse as a way to get something done. Moving cattle, checking crops or fence line. And, on a horse, you're out in the open and you're not just sitting, you're riding." At the look of mild confusion she gave, he explained, "You have to use your legs to keep your seat, to keep your balance. And to let the horse know which way you want to go."

She cocked her head to one side, shifting in her seat to get a better view of him. "Isn't that what reins are for?"

"Yeah, but if you've got a really good horse and a good rider, sometimes all you need is some pressure from your leg and the horse responds."

"And are you that good a rider?" she teased.

He grinned at her. "Well, back home, I've got a really good horse, and I'd say that I'm a pretty good rider, but Coco, he's hard headed and strong willed, like me, so I'm used to using reins."

She smiled in response, noting the look in his eye when he talked of home. "So have you always been hard headed?"

"Pretty much – " he answered, but she realized his eye no longer met hers and she turned to look out the window, seeing as Nick had, the collection of Union soldiers walking alongside the track.

Immediately, she tilted her head to get a better view, speaking over her shoulder to Nick. "There's a column of them, just following the tracks."

Nick stood and leaned over her to look out the top of the window, the long blue line stretching far ahead. "There are hundreds. Gotta be a regiment," he mumbled out to no one in particular.

"Has to be," she answered in kind.

"Railroad's easy enough to follow, should be fairly flat, have bridges over rivers, make 'em easy to cross," Nick said, thinking out loud as they watched the dozens of men going by through the small opening.

They both felt it at the same time, the subtle shift as the train slowed, then they heard the unmistakable whoosh of steam and they heard and felt the shudder of the brakes. Habit caused them each to grab the seat in front of them and they exchanged worried glances. More and more Union soldiers came into sight and the officer's shouts filled the air as commands were relayed down the line, the officers riding horseback up and down the ranks. Even without hearing what the officers were yelling, the looks of relief on the faces of the men let any onlookers know that the soldiers would be catching a ride. Once the train stopped, the men shouldered their weapons and moved in one wave toward the train, and quickly the clomping of boots was heard overhead as men climbed onto the cars. No doubt the same thing was happening down the train as men climbed atop every car, every bit of freight, and filled all the empty space of the box cars. Both Kate and Nick knew that the Army was authorized to catch rides on trains when they could as it would get the troops where they were going faster and well rested. And neither was surprised when the door to their car opened and several higher ranking officers entered, giving a courtesy nod to the men and women already aboard the train. Nick stood immediately, stepping into the aisle, offering a crisp salute until he was waved back to his seat by a higher ranking officer.

Kate and Nick shared a quick look, each of them curious as to whether they were witness to more than mere troop movements, each of them knowing the decision to move a regiment was never a simple one, but neither one presumed to ask any questions. The rest of the passengers, however, were abuzz with comments about the train's newest riders and the muttered conversations carried throughout the car.

With the addition of the group of Army officers, a couple of passengers had gotten up and moved to allow the officers space to sit together and the officers quickly took advantage of the opportunity. Kate was not surprised that Nick was watching the men carefully, although she was surprised when he turned to her and muttered, "Stay here." He walked up to the other Union officers, standing to the side until their conversation stopped and one looked up asking, "Did you need something, Lieutenant?" Before he could answer, one colonel looked at Nick for the first time since boarding the train.

"Nick Barkley! Is that you?" he asked a smile spreading across his face.

Nick returned a broad smile. "Yes, Sir."

The senior officer turned to the others as he stood and clapped a hand on Nick's shoulder. "Nick here is a boy from back home. Although not much of a boy anymore. And a lieutenant, too! Your folks must be proud!" he added as he led Nick away to the front of the car.

Kate watched as the two men nodded and grinned, talking for several minutes, sharing what seemed to be a lively conversation. As they talked, Kate noticed Nick getting more and more comfortable, at one point putting a boot up on a small box, leaning forward as the colonel told a story, then Nick leaned his head back to roar with laughter, his white teeth gleaming as he grinned, his dimples deep. Kate gasped softly as she realized that she was seeing a side of him she'd never seen before. This was who Nick was when he was with people he knew and trusted. This was who he was with friends. She sat back and studied him, thought about how different this man was, easy going, congenial. The man she was most used to was polite, or tried to be. He was the one who could bark an order without hesitation, pick up a rifle and take out a sniper, stand his ground against a Navy captain as well as that sweet, fumbling, still awkward boy who blushed when she asked him to step outside a room. The thought dashed through her mind of how little she really knew about Nick and how much less she had actually let Nick know about her when she noticed the two men glance in her direction and she realized they were talking about her.

"So why aren't you with your outfit, Nick?"

He cleared his throat and glanced over at Kate. "You see the girl in the fourth row?"

"The colonel looked over Kate appraisingly. "The pretty one with the big blue eyes?"

Nick looked back and he was reminded of how true a statement that was. "That's the one. One of my commanding officers wanted me to make sure she got to Washington safely," Nick answered, glad he was able to answer that much truthfully.

"Is that so?" he asked, looking back to Kate, then turning back to Nick and grinning. "Must not know about your reputation with the ladies."

Nick returned the good natured grin. "I have my orders to be on my best behavior."

"Ah, so then maybe your reputation does proceed you."

"Colonel, how about you? That's quite a few men you're moving here. Anything I should be on the look out for?"

The older, senior officer fixed the younger, junior officer with a hard stare. "Planning on making any stops?"

"No, Sir." Nick mentioned as casually as he could, "We're planning on going South at Harrisburg to get her down to Washington."

"Why's she heading that way?"

Nick hesitated. "Best way to describe it is family business," he replied, giving a no nonsense look. "You might say she's like a niece to General Dodge." Nick watched as the man's brow furrowed, a far more serious expression in his face than just moments before.

"Family business with General Dodge, did you say?"

"Yes, Sir."

The colonel took a deep breath and looked back to the girl, this time noticing how intensely she was watching them. "Nick, if she has family business with General Dodge's family," he said, his voice serious as he turned and looked into Nick's eyes for confirmation, "and you said you're to get her safely to Washington . . . Is that right?"

"Yes, Sir, it is," Nick answered, returning the intent stare.

He let out another long breath before saying, "I'd go on past Harrisburg and go through Philadelphia to get to Washington. And Nick, you might need to be prepared to wait there a while."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Kate couldn't help but notice the look that Nick's officer friend gave her, nor the tip of his hat and bow of his head. There was something different in the way he looked at her, as if he knew her every secret. She turned to Nick and drilled him with a piercing look, watching over Nick's shoulder as the colonel sat down. "Did you tell him about me?"

"Not in so many words."

She shook her head as her eyes became hard. "It wasn't for you to tell."

"Kate – " he began, ready to explain.

"No, Nick," she insisted, watching as the colonel was drawn back into conversation with the other officers. "It's not for you to say. Who's safe to tell is not for you to judge. It's my neck on the line. It's my decision."

Nick leaned in toward her. "You'd better be glad I did. I don't know that he would have told me about it without knowing about you. Apparently, there's troop movements on both sides between here and Maryland. Looks like we're going to be spending more time together than we thought."

Based on what they'd learned, Kate and Nick changed trains in Harrisburg to one bound for Philadelphia. If what Nick had heard on the train was true, heading south through Pennsylvania toward Washington was the last place he wanted to take Kate. And the hustle and bustle of Harrisburg only served to confirm their suspicions. People there were on the move, the train depot filled with people fleeing north, east, or west and the rumors flying just as fast. As soon as the conductor let them know they'd be arriving in Philadelphia, Nick got their bags and had them ready. Even before the train came to a full stop, he had Kate by the hand and they hurried to claim a hack, not certain of how long people had been flooding into Philadelphia from neighboring cities, but they both knew that the train station seemed far busier than it should have been. As they stepped up into the hack, Nick barked out "The Continental Hotel" and Kate sat down heavily on the padded seat in response, her eyes large as she turned to Nick.

"The Continental?"

Nick had to chuckle at her surprised reaction. "It's supposed to be the biggest and the best, isn't it?"

"Well, yes, but," she glanced toward the hack driver, dropping her voice considerably, "can we afford that?"

Nick shrugged off the question. "It's not a problem."

"We don't know how long we'll be here," Kate responded, her tone insistent.

"Don't worry. Everything will be fine." Nick sat back against the seat, amused at the anxious look on Kate's face. "What's wrong?" he asked, thinking that she seemed as jumpy as a cat.

She tried to appear nonchalant although she sat stiffly. "I've never stayed in a hotel as big and fancy as the Continental before."

"Have you ever been to it?"

She shook her head, her eyes taking in the views of the city. "No, I can't say that I have. Although this isn't my first time in Philadelphia," she added, looking at Nick. "You?"

"Yep, first time," he answered easily as they pulled up to the hotel.

"Oh, sweet heaven," she murmured as the carriage came to a stop and she and Nick both craned their necks back to look up at the six story building. It took up the length of the city block and about half the width of it, the stately light cream building enough to impress anyone. The dozens of windows in neat rows and columns gleamed in the sun, the sheer number of them suggesting that surely all those rooms had never been occupied at the same time. But the different positions of the white backed curtains in the various windows, adjusted to suit the fancy of the room's guests, let a passerby know that at any moment, most of those rooms had someone staying in them. A steady stream of people filed in and out, and Nick hoped there would be vacant rooms available.

A doorman stepped up to the carriage, offering his hand to help Kate down, then glanced at Nick. "Bags, Sir?" he asked, picking them up while Nick took Kate by the arm to escort her in.

Walking into the lobby, Nick heard Kate's light gasp and both were impressed by the soaring fluted columns and ceilings, the enormous gas chandeliers hanging over head. And if that wasn't enough, there was all the marble, the rich fabrics on the windows, the fancy dress of the men gathered in the business exchange and the rooms off to either side. Just as Kate began to wonder where the women were, the bellman turned to Nick. "Sir, the lady may wait in the Reception Room while you register."

Nick and Kate exchanged a quick glance, neither of them doubting that was what was expected of them. "Go on ahead and I'll meet you there," Nick said, trying to sound reassuring, watching as Kate climbed the beautiful staircase in the middle of the downstairs. Following the bellman's suggestions, he joined the men and the few women waiting in line to register for a room, listening into the conversations around him to gather whatever information he could. Hearing the reports of those who had just come to the city from the outlying rural towns and the comments being made about troop movements in the area, left him no doubt that he should be close at hand in case Kate needed protection. By the time he stepped up to the reception desk, his mind was made up and he wasted no time in asking for a suite with two bedrooms.

"I'm sorry, Sir. We have no available two bedroom suites. If it's two bedrooms you need, with your permission, I saw you enter with, I'm sorry Sir, is it your sister? I could put her up in a lovely room on our fourth floor where we have our ladies' maids available and place you on the sixth floor."

Nick froze, knowing he didn't want that much distance between himself and Kate. "No. I wanted the two bedrooms together," Nick insisted, adding. "Especially with this business to the west," thinking he could say that much without raising suspicion.

"I'm sorry, Sir. It just isn't available."

"Well," Nick stalled, thinking of other possibilities, "would you have a one bedroom suite with a sitting room."

He saw the clerk's eyebrow raise slightly. "For your sister, Sir?"

Nick made a snap decision and sucked in a quick breath. "She's not my sister. She's my wife. The second bedroom, ah, we were hoping my brother would be joining us and wanted to get a room for him. Just in case."

The clerk nodded, not missing a beat. "Of course, Sir. For you and your wife, we do have a one bedroom suite available, and if your brother were to join you, I'll note that there is a daybed, although I wouldn't think it appropriate for an extended stay. And of course, any persons joining you would have an additional charge."

"Sure, sure," Nick blustered. "But you have that suite and it has a separate daybed?"

"Yes, sir. A very nice one with a necessary and bath."

Nick blew out a breath, wondering how he'd gotten himself into this. "Good. That's what we'll do then. And I guess somehow we'll make it work." He barely listened as the clerk proceeded to tell him about the meal seatings and the additional services the hotel offered, hoping that Kate would be as agreeable to the idea of their pretending to be married as she had been when it was her idea. Remembering that it was only a few days ago that she had threatened to give him no more notice about pretending to be married than calling him Darling, he set off to find her. With the bellman waiting to show them to their room, he found her sitting next to and talking quietly with an older couple. Forcing what he hoped was his most charming smile, he walked up to them and offered his hand to Kate to help her stand, saying, "Darling, I'm sorry I took so long." He noticed the flicker in her eye and he drew her closer to him, taking her by the arm as she stood next to him.

"Was there a problem, Nick?" she asked sweetly.

"Not really. I got us a one bedroom suite. I asked for a two bedroom suite, but they weren't any available, so if my brother joins us, he'll have to get his own room," Nick offered, providing an explanation for Kate that would sound appropriate to strangers.

"Ah well," she said, taking a step closer to Nick and tucking her arm in the crook of his elbow in a possessive gesture. "Darling," she said, asking a silent question, seeing his slight nod before she turned back to the older couple, "let me introduce you to the Hamiltons. They were just telling me that there's talk of the Confederacy crossing the Susquehanna."

Nick extended his hand to the husband and nodded his greeting to the wife. "I just heard the same as I was registering," Nick replied. "Sweetheart, I've already picked up a copy of the afternoon papers to read in our room. I thought they might tell us more."

"I hope you don't mind," the man apologized. "It's not that we were trying to frighten your wife. The whole thing just seemed to spill out."

Nick glanced down at Kate, knowing immediately that Kate could get information from a statue if she wanted to and having not the slightest doubt that Kate had wrangled the information from them. "I'm sure it did. If you'll excuse us," he said, guiding Kate toward the bellman, the two of them following him to the ornate cage of the elevator.

They rode up in silence, both of them looking about curiously, the experience of the elevator new for each of them. They stepped into the sitting area of the suite and they both looked around the room, Nick stepping over to a table and dropping his hat onto it. "Madam," began the bellman, "the bed chamber is right through here," he said formally, opening a door into the next room, "and the dressing room and water closet there."

Upon seeing the luxuriousness of the suite, Kate stifled a gasp, calling on her reserves and turning and replying with a simple, "It's lovely. I'm sure this will do nicely."

Nick smiled at the way she was able to manage, even as he guessed she'd never been in anything remotely similar to this situation before. Nodding to the bellman, he watched as he put their bags down, silently thanking his parents for raising him so that he knew what was expected as he dropped the tip into the bellman's hand. He waited for the door to close, then quickly surveyed the rooms and offered a quick explanation. "Kate, I'm sorry. Look, there's a daybed in this room where I can sleep. You can have the bedroom to yourself – "

"Nick, what happened? And thank goodness I didn't tell the Hamiltons anything," she insisted as she dropped her gloves onto the table.

He scoffed at the idea. "Since when do you tell anyone anything?" She waved off his suggestion and he saw the light glint off her finger and walked over to her, lifting her hand to examine the rings she was wearing. "When did you put these on?"

"In the elevator when no one was watching."

Nick stood with his hands on his hips and sighed, but felt more comfortable that they could pull off the pretense of being married. "As to why I said that we were married, well, what I told you downstairs was mostly true. They didn't have any suites with two bedrooms but the clerk thought you were my sister, and he wanted to put us on separate floors. And with all that's happening in town, I didn't want you that far from me and, like we talked about in Vicksburg, if anyone sees you checked in as Mrs. Barkley . . ."

She nodded her understanding as she walked around the room. Glancing back at him, she took in a slow breath. "I'm sorry, Nick. I suspect lying doesn't come easily to you."

He shrugged in response. "Killing doesn't come easy to me either, but I've had to do it."

Kate startled at his comment and thought about the challenges he faced day to day when he was with his regiment and those she had faced. "What a pair we make, me lying and you killing. I don't know, Nick, maybe this will give each of us a well deserved break from the war. If nothing else, we should certainly be comfortable here. But you said something about sleeping on the daybed. Nick, surely, you'd be more comfortable in the bed. I'm not nearly as tall – "

"Now, hold on there, Woman. That's one thing I'm not going to argue over with you. You get the bed and the bedroom and that's all there is to it."

"Nick – " she began, but he held up his hand to stop any further discussion. She glanced around once more, her brow furrowed. "Maybe we won't have to stay long. This can't come cheap."

"Kate, don't worry about the money."

"How can I not?"

"Because General Dodge made sure I had plenty before we left Vicksburg. And besides that, I collected my pay before we left." He walked over to her, resting his hands on her shoulders. "And if we needed it, I could draw money from my accounts back home."

"You shouldn't even have to think that way."

"And I don't think it will come to that. But if we're here that long, trust me, the money will be the least of our problems."

Her brow furrowed again as she watched him walk away and drop into a chair, propping one foot up on the table in front of him. "You seem very comfortable here."

Nick shrugged his shoulders. "I guess I am."

"All of this money, this wealth, it's not new to you, is it?"

Nick's face softened as he realized that it was new to her and he dropped his foot to the floor and sat forward. "No, it's not." He hesitated, searching for the right words, "At least not all of it. Kate, my family jokes about the Barkley luck. And some of it is luck, some of it is my parents being at the right place at the right time and some of it is plain, old fashioned hard work. But yeah, some of this isn't new to me, some of it is, but if you have questions about how some of it works or what's expected, I might know the answers. As a matter of fact, I was thinking that we're going to be here longer than we expected and if there are things you need, we could go shopping for them. I'm thinking that people are going to be dressed in their best for dinner."

"Do we need to have dinner here at the hotel?"

"It is included in the price of the room."

"Oh, then I suppose so. Nick, tell me, why did you insist on this hotel?"

"Let's see, I guess there are a few reasons. A big hotel like this, I figured we wouldn't draw as much attention. Second, if the situation heats up, a hotel like this is likely to do whatever it can to take care of its guests, including getting them passage out of town. And last, from what you told me about where you were staying with Jack, I figured this is just about the last place anyone would be looking for that girl." She nodded in response, her eyes letting him know that she appreciated his reasoning. "So, since this is where we're going to be staying, how about if we go walk around town? See about getting the things we need?"

They spent the afternoon shopping at stores suggested by the concierge. They first went to a lady's shop and Nick sat off to one side in a chair provided for ladies' escorts, his demeanor letting anyone who looked at him know that he was completely discomfitted in being there. Kate had come out of the dressing room wearing a few different dresses, any of them striking Nick as acceptable. With each dress, he sat forward, nodding and smiling as Kate studied her self in the mirror and glanced over for his opinion, although he wondered why any girl would want it. He looked at her reflection. "Kate, you look pretty in all of them," he said sincerely, wishing she would just pick one or two.

"It's just that I could buy the blue and I get this overskirt that would let me wear it differently. I hate to buy two dresses. But there's this little jacket with the green dress that I could wear in the day."

Nick stood up and glanced at the swirl of colors in the dressing room before he turned to the shopkeeper. "If you added them up, how much for the dresses?"

"All of them?" Nick nodded in response. She totaled the amounts quickly. "Nine dollars and some change."

"Nick, no," Kate objected.

"Kate, they all look good on you," he insisted, turning to the shopkeeper. "Send them to the Continental. Kate, did you need, I don't know, things to go with them?" The women in the shop all smiled at his description of "things" and he returned an annoyed look to them. "Well, did you pick any of that out?"

"Not yet," she answered gently.

"Well, pick out whatever you need. C'mon, Kate. Here's a twenty dollar piece. Buy whatever you need. There's a store that makes men's shirts and I was hoping to get a couple made before we leave Philadelphia and, if we leave here soon, we can stop there this afternoon before we head back to the hotel."

"Nick, why didn't you say anything?"

"I'm telling you now."

Kate shook her head at him, her look upbraiding him for not letting her know about the errands he wanted to run and she turned to a case that Nick saw as filled with ribbons and laces, pointing to a few different items and seeming to be satisfied. Nick looked at the small pile on the counter and waved his hand over it, looking back at the shopkeeper. "Send twice as many of whatever those are and toss in a couple of extra of those shirts women wear with skirts."

Wide-eyed, Kate turned to stare at Nick. "Nick, it's not necessary," but he kept his focus on the owner.

"I expected to have her home tonight and instead we may be at the Continental Hotel for several days. If you can think of anything else she might need that we didn't get, send it on for her approval."

"Of course, Sir, and you said the Continental Hotel. And your name?"

"Lt. Barkley."

"Of course, Lt. Barkley. We'll make sure everything is to Mrs. Barkley in time for dinner this evening."

"Good."

"Nick! It's too much."

"Kate, I'd rather have them send it now than have to do this again in a couple of days."

One of the other shoppers in the store looked up from a display case at the young couple and smiled. "My dear girl, if you're fortunate enough to have a generous husband, be grateful and allow him to pamper you."

"But he's not – " Kate began, stopping herself in time to finish by saying, "likely to let me tell him how generous he is or how fortunate I am. I'm glad you did," she said to the woman, her eyes letting Nick know she was speaking the truth. Gracing him with a soft smile, she said, "Thank you, Darling" and reached up to kiss him lightly on the cheek.

The other shopper smiled at the shopkeeper and the two older women exchanged knowing glances. "I'm sure you'll have the opportunity to thank him again later," she suggested, noting with some amusement the blush that seemed to brighten the young woman's cheeks and the quick bluster from her young husband as he nodded his acknowledgment to them before taking her by the arm to escort her out. _Ah, youth_, she thought to herself, watching as the young husband pulled his wife's hand into his arm as they walked out into the sun.

That evening, after they returned to the room, they came in to find several boxes tied with ribbon sitting on the small table set off to one side. Kate startled at the display, embarrassed to think of so much having been spent on her. She began to open the topmost package, sheepishly closing it when she saw what was in it, gathering the boxes to take them into the bedroom. Nick immediately moved toward her and took them from her, anticipating what she would want. Placing them on the bed, he motioned to the bureau. "Why don't you unpack your things? I'm going to go downstairs to the barber, see about getting a shave, maybe even a haircut. You, uh, you help yourself to the bath, take as long as you want. I'll tell you what, I'll even have them send up a ladies' maid. Someone to make sure you have everything you need. And if there's something you don't have, I'm sure she can help you get it. After the shave, I might even stop downstairs to have a drink and a smoke!" he added, grabbing his hat and heading out the door before she had much of a chance to object.

When he walked back into their suite, Nick had to smile at the sight of Kate sitting on the daybed, her feet tucked up underneath her, surrounded by the afternoon papers that she had obviously been reading at length. She shifted her feet to the floor and sat up, pulling the dressing gown she wore closer around her and she fingered the collar of the gown, glad that the dress shop had sent it along with the other items she had chosen. She gathered the newspapers into a pile as Nick unbuttoned his coat and tossed it over the arm of the love seat, then dropped unceremoniously into the chair next to her, setting one foot on the table, then crossing his other leg on top. She took in a slow breath, the masculine aromas washing over her, a mixture of cigar smoke, whiskey, and bay rum. Thinking he had enjoyed his time downstairs as much as she had enjoyed a long soak in the tub, she smiled over at him and noticed how dashing he looked. "The barber did a good job."

He grinned over at her in response, his teeth gleaming white, his dimple deep in his cheek and he raked a hand through his hair, much shorter than before he left, then rubbed the smooth jawline. "Is that a fact?" he asked smoothly, thinking to himself how much he had enjoyed the creature comforts that had been missing from his life for so long. And from the looks of things, Kate seemed to be settling in herself. "Got everything situated here?"

"I did. I must admit, it was quite nice. The maid you sent up came in, drew me a bath, helped me put things away. And Nick," she added, her tone almost apologetic, "we put away your things as well. The maid asked about unpacking for you and I figured a wife would probably take care of it so your belongings are in the bottom two drawers of the bureau. Except for your brush and shaving things and the like, they're mostly in the bath. I hope you don't mind."

"No, of course not. Listen, Kate, while I'm still hoping we can get you to Washington before too long, I just don't know." Nick shifted uncomfortably, pushing himself up and walking over to the window, staring down into the street. "From what I heard downstairs, from what I've seen in the papers, it looks like we'll be here at least a few days. And, well, since it looks like we'll be together longer than we thought, well, it's probably a good thing they have ladies' maids who can help you with dressing and all."

Kate stared at Nick's back across the room, glad he was looking out the window so he couldn't see the blush heating her cheeks. She knew he was right, though, and shared his thought that they should try to keep a certain distance. Swallowing hard, uncomfortable with even discussing what he was careful not to suggest, she answered, "I'm sure you're right. Especially with the dresses I just bought. There's a bow on the back of the one I'm wearing tonight that I know will need a woman's touch."

Nick turned to look her in the eye. "Kate, I'm not talking about – "

"I know you're not," she insisted and they shared a knowing look. "Listen, Nick, I'll need to change before dinner, but if you wanted to use the bath and bedroom before then . . ." She forced a smile and rolled her eyes. "It's as you said. Our plans have been delayed for a few days. We'll figure out a way to make this work. We just will."

He returned her smile, thinking to himself that he liked her spunk, had always liked it. That and the way she tended to face things head on, at least it would seem so to most people.


	10. Chapter 10

Author's note - Thanks so much to all who have sent reviews. They are GREATLY appreciated. I probably could have split this, and possibly should have, but it's all together in one long post.

Sitting at dinner, Kate recalled the thought she had back in Vicksburg, which seemed like a lifetime ago, that they were a good enough looking couple to draw attention to themselves, far from the inconspicuous pair she originally had hoped to be. Indeed, walking in to the main restaurant and across the room to their table, she noticed the heads turning and following them. Men and women, both. Not that you could blame them. Nick cut a dashing figure in his dress uniform, his broad shoulders accented by the epaulets, the chest having plenty of room for the medals he sported, the metal buttons gleaming, his boots polished to a shine. And for a man who was already tall, he carried himself even taller, his shoulders back, his chest broad as he walked across the room puffed out like a proud rooster with the pretty lady he sported on his arm. Kate was resplendent in the soft blue evening dress. When she had opened the box, it took her breath away and then there was the card, "Saw this in the window when we were leaving and I thought it would match your eyes. Hope it fits. Nick." If Nick hadn't been in the tub when it was delivered to their suite, she knew she would have gone straight to him to give him a hug and kiss. As it was, she hid it until she dressed for the evening, figuring that she could give him a surprise of her own. She'd never had such a dress before and didn't want to know how much it had cost, but the yards of silk had to be dear, and the yards of delicate lace trimming the neckline she knew had taken hours to stitch and the blue of the dress made her eyes seem ever bluer still. She looked up into the mirror as the maid had fastened her into the dress and the servant had nodded wordlessly, beaming her approval. Kate knew that she hadn't fooled the maid, that the maid knew just how inexperienced she was in this world and somehow receiving the blessing of the servant who had seen countless women dressing for dinner made Kate feel far better.

"I'd like a steak about this thick," Nick insisted to the waiter, indicating a space of three inches with his fingers.

"That's not available on our regular menu, Sir. There would be an extra charge."

"But you have it?"

"Certainly, Sir."

"Then that's what I want!" Kate smiled as Nick gave the waiter her order and his own and noticed, once again, that Nick had no hesitation in making demands of the waiter, desk clerks, shopkeepers, and the like. She waited for the waiter to step away before she leaned toward Nick and asked in a hushed tone, "Nick, back home, do you have servants?"

He thought about it for a moment. "I wouldn't say servants."

"Oh sweet heavens! You do have servants!"

"No, not exactly." He shrugged lightly, then tilted his head and tugged at his ear self consciously. "We have someone who works for us, Silas. He takes care of things, helps my mother with cooking. He's the only person in the house all the time. Then there are a couple of women who come in to help with some of the cleaning and the laundry. But beyond that," he stopped to think.

"Oh, my gosh! There's that long a list that you have to think about it?!"

"No, nothing like that. Or not like you think. It's a ranch and there are ranch hands to help with the horses and cattle. And at times of the year, we hire on extra help for different harvests, but I wouldn't count any of them as servants."

"But they all work for you?" she asked. Nick nodded in response and there was something about his demeanor that let Kate know there was more that he wasn't saying. "Are you . . . wealthy, Nick?"

He cleared his throat self consciously. "I wouldn't say so but some people would. But it's not as if we just sit back and count money all day. My father and I work hard every day. Hard enough that there's many a man who wouldn't do it no matter how much money you paid them," he insisted before turning the focus of conversation. "But what about you? There wasn't a cook, a housekeeper?"

"Oh no, nothing like that."

"Really? Most bankers I've known have had someone working for them."

"Banker?"

"You told me once that your father was a banker."

She stopped, fighting a smirk. "Did I really?"

"You said he was in the business of saving. But that he wasn't necessarily a good banker."

She laughed at his comment, her laugh deep throated and rich. "The business of saving. I suppose you could say that."

"So what is he?" Nick asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Can we leave it at banker?"

Nick was about to press for more information but stopped, reminding himself why they were together.

She stared at him, certain that his life was as different from hers as can be, curious about what would interest him in a city like Philadelphia. They spent a good part of dinner talking about their options for how to spend the next couple of days, agreeing they could treat the next two or three days as a welcome leave from their regular duties. Seeing Independence Hall was high on both their lists, especially with the Fourth of July only a week away, the other Philadelphia museums intriguing them as well. Kate watched, amused, as Nick seemed to eat enough for three men, commenting lightly, "And I thought I was ready for a good meal."

Nick smiled in response. "As I recall, you were a very good cook, a whole lot better than most army field messes. I'm thinking if we have a couple of days of good food available to us, I might as well enjoy it while I can."

The sound of music drifted into the room from the ballroom at the other side of the building and as they ate dessert, Nick studied Kate and the way she occasionally glanced in the direction of the notes playing. "I suppose a husband should know such things, but I need to ask. Do you like to dance?"

Kate laughed, having been caught off guard. She took a last sip of wine. "As a matter of fact, I do. And you?"

Nick nodded and grinned at her. "Do you think that's one of those things that attracted us to each other?"

Kate chuckled at the joke. "More than likely."

They walked to the ballroom, Nick leading them to the dance floor and they enjoyed the music, each of them finding the other a good partner. When the musicians put down their instruments, Kate and Nick exchanged surprised glances, as neither of them had noticed as most of the rest of the guests wandered away to their rooms.

Nick offered her his arm as they walked through the hotel, commenting easily, "It's been a long time since I've had a night like this. A good meal, then dancing with a pretty girl."

Kate nodded her agreement and the two made idle conversation as they rode up the elevator, chatting about the music played as they walked to their room. A combination of wine and dancing and several days of traveling combined to make them two sleepy and contented people as they went into their hotel room, the two talking casually, until it dawned on them that they had entered the bedroom together.

Nick looked down at her, the two of them suddenly self-conscious. "Ordinarily, I would offer a lady the washroom first, but I'm thinking if I get in and out, well, get ready for bed, I mean for sleep. That is, once I finish in the bathroom, I can leave the bath and bedroom all to you."

She smiled and nodded, thinking it best if that conversation came to a quick end and she quietly backed out to the outer room, pulling the bedroom door shut behind her.

Trying to stay busy so as not to be caught up as the growing panic threatened to sweep away Philadelphia, the next couple of days followed a similar pattern. After putting the blanket and pillow Nick used back on the bed, Nick and Kate devoured the morning papers for news of the troop movements in the area as well as any news of the still ongoing siege at Vicksburg, then had breakfast downstairs, then the two heading out to explore Philadelphia sites. They stared reverently at Independence Hall, marveled at the collection of exotic animals at the Natural History museum and, much to Kate's amusement, spent an entire afternoon with Nick captivated by the plants at Horticulture Hall.

Kate watched as Nick talked animatedly with one of the gentlemen who worked there and when they finally broke off, she turned to him. "I wouldn't have thought you would be quite this interested in plants."

"Why not? We grow all kinds of crops back home."

She nodded her understanding. "What kinds of crops?"

"Crops to sell. All kinds of things. Lots of grain, barley, alfalfa, wheat. Now, a lot of that goes to feed stock. Walnuts, pistachios. My father and I have talked about planting fruit orchards. And grapes to make our own wine."

"Orchards?"

"Well, yeah."

"How big would these orchards be? How many trees, I mean?"

"Couple, few hundred trees."

"A few hundred?"

Nick chuckled, a bit self consciously. "Well, per kind of fruit, of course. Peaches, oranges, that kind of thing."

"Do you mind my asking . . . how much property do you have?"

"About twenty thousand acres." She stopped and stared openly at him, in awe of the idea that his family would have that much property. "Well, it's not all crops, of course. A lot of it is range for cattle. Some of it's timber land. Some of it's just open land but you need it to be able to get from one section to the other. Or for water rights, that sort of thing. We're in the middle of the San Joaquin valley and the land is rich for growing." Sensing that Kate might think he was bragging, he tried to change the focus of conversation. "Now, my mother, she keeps a garden and she would have liked to have seen some of these."

"I'm guessing this isn't some kitchen vegetable garden."

"Well, we have one of those, but, no, she likes flowers."

"I get the feeling your family doesn't do anything half way. Why do I think this is something more than a few flower boxes?"

"I guess it is at that. I'll tell you, she sure would like hearing about all this. Ordinarily, I'd write her all about it, but I think you'll be happy to know that I'll keep this trip to myself until the war's over and I get back home."

"That would make me happy indeed. So, this garden of your mother, she's still adding to it?"

"Oh, yeah. As long as she stays on her side of the house, Father is likely to indulge her."

"Her side of the house?"

Nick turned to her, completely serious. "She has her flower garden to the front and on one side of the house. To the other side and the back are barns and stables and pens for livestock."

Kate laughed openly. "And as long as she doesn't interfere with your things . . ."

Nick cut his eyes in her direction. "Something like that," then smiled as she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm.

During those days, meals were had at the hotel and, Kate quickly learned, included beef for Nick at every meal and Nick was quick to realize Kate had a penchant for seafood. After filling their days with seeing the sights of the city, the evenings included reading the afternoon papers as they took turns in the bedroom and bath preparing for dinner, followed by a sumptuous feast and ending the night with dancing.

Their time before dinner became the time when they would have calm conversations about the latest developments in the area around them. But in the background were the never ending drums of war. Without warning, the streets would be occupied by companies of soldiers marching through town, the recruitment tables seemed to be a permanent fixture in the area between Philadelphia's City Hall and the adjacent Independence Hall. On Saturday, Major General Dana was installed as the military head of Philadelphia and the formation of new militia units continued. Kate and Nick tried to keep the tension out of their voices, but neither could hide their concern. How could they with the ongoing call for troops and finally the call for prayer?

On Saturday night, after they had come in from dinner, Nick turned to Kate. "Tomorrow's Sunday. Did you want to go to church?"

She lifted her head but didn't meet his eyes. She knew they should go to church. They both had much to pray about, much to pray for and she could barely remember going to a church she would consider her own. Just the thought of spending a Sunday worshiping with like minded folks made her ache. Instead, she closed her eyes and swallowed hard. "Since we're here in Philadelphia, we could go to Christ Church," she suggested.

"The Episcopal church?"

"Mm hmm," she murmured, trying to be nonchalant.

"It's just that I remember you saying once . . . what, when we were back at that cabin in the swamp, that you had listened to Reverend King preach in Boston. If you were listening to him preach, wouldn't that make you a Unitarian?"

She froze for a moment and shrugged a shoulder. "I was thinking that Christ Church is historic. It seems appropriate to go there, especially with everything happening here in Philadelphia."

Nick stared at her, knowing she was being evasive. "Kate, we can go wherever you want. Or if you want to sleep in tomorrow morning, we could do that, too. But don't feel like you have to make up a reason for not going to a church you would normally attend on my account." Nick stared down at her, waiting, and when she didn't respond, he stormed into the bedroom, grabbing the pillow and blanket off the bed and bringing them out, throwing the bedding hard against one arm of the daybed. "You know, Kate, by now I would have thought you could trust me with some of the details of your life. I can understand if you want to keep some things secret, but – "

"I can't go to the Unitarian Church, Nick," she answered softly.

"Is that so?" he asked brusquely, his tone suggesting disbelief.

"As a matter of fact, it is. There are too many people there who might know me, the minister among them. The local minister, Reverend Furness, has known my father for years and if I were to go there and he were to see me, no doubt there would be a letter to my parents," she added, noting Nick's dropped shoulders and head and she walked to the bedroom door, turning back when she reached it. "And, frankly, you would be rather difficult to explain. As for trusting you . . . it hasn't even been two weeks since I watched someone I cared for hang and I don't know if he died because of something I said or did, so you'll excuse me if I keep some secrets. It's not that I don't trust you. I don't trust me."

Sunday afternoon, Kate startled when Nick crumpled up the newspaper, tossing it down on the table before he stood, then stalked across the room to the window, staring out into the street below. She crossed to the table, smoothing out the paper, glancing at it quickly, the front page covered with stories of the reports of troop movements in the nearby areas and the desperate need for soldiers if the Union wanted to hold Philadelphia and Pennsylvania. Each day, the reports became more and more serious with a battle brewing that would no doubt take place in the very near future. Taking in a slow breath, she walked over to stand next to him, staring absently out the window with him before looking up into his face. "Is it the governor's call for troops?" she asked softly.

She watched as his jaw tightened and he seemed to chew on the inside of his cheek as he measured his words. "I have my orders. I'm to get you to Washington."

She stroked his arm, smiling at the feel of his biceps under her hand. "Yes, but that doesn't change the fact that you look like, I'm guessing you feel like, a caged animal, stuck in here with me when so much is going on all around us. I'm not surprised if you feel your place is elsewhere, be it in Mississippi or closer to the lines here in Pennsylvania."

He glanced down at her, not acknowledging the truth in her statement. "It wouldn't be much better in Mississippi, waiting out the siege there. I don't think anyone expected for it to take this long."

"No, probably not. I know I certainly didn't expect our trip to have this delay either. No one did."

"Nope."

"C'mon," she said, pulling him away from the window.

"C'mon where?"

"I don't know. Let's go for a walk. We can go explore Fairmount Park. Go down to the harbor and look at the ships, walk through the streets. Out somewhere to get something to eat. Anything. It's Sunday, so you can't watch me shop."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm glad we can we avoid the shopping."

She laughed. "See. That's why people think we're really married. Comments like that. But know that even if we were married, I still wouldn't make you come with me. Come on, young married couples find something to do every day. I'm sure we will too."

He glanced over at her and shook his head, surprised at her naivete, thinking to himself if he were stuck in a hotel room with her as his wife, he wouldn't need ideas on how to pass the time.

They gathered jackets and hats, taking a street car out to the park, walking in the fresh air, the walk seeming to invigorate them. When they returned into the city, they continued on until they came to the area around Independence Hall where they stopped, staring at the tables set outside to enlist volunteers, men gathering around, talking about what the next days would hold. Immediately, their moods turned somber and Kate stared up at Nick, tightening her hold on his arm, her voice low but insistent as they stood in the street. "Just as you told me, you already have your orders. You're already doing your part." She heard and felt his harumph, then watched as he fixed his hat closer onto his head. "Nick," she insisted, reaching up to turn his face to hers even as her eyes scanned up and down the street, "you've been serving for almost two years already and seen more duty than most of these men ever will. It's not as if you're avoiding service. Nick, you have your orders."

She stared up at his face, her heart tearing when he looked down into her eyes, his own dark as he answered, "Yeah, but no one else knows that." He glanced back to the men walking up to the recruitment tables, then turned the two of them away. "C'mon, let's head back to the hotel," he added, his mood dark.

Later that night, as they had dinner in the hotel dining room, Nick glanced around to see if anyone might be listening, then spoke softly. "I think we should go further North." He noticed the slight shake of her head. "I know you've lived in Boston before."

"I'm not going back to Boston" was the curt reply.

"Why not?"

She let out a long sigh and he found himself having to listen hard to hear her. "I can't go back to Boston," she whispered.

He was surprised that she seemed willing to share details of her past but he tried not to call attention to it. "Can't? Can't or won't? Did something happen in Boston?"

She blew out a hard breath and seemed to weigh her words before she answered. "Nothing's happened in Boston. Yet. It's what will probably happen if I go back." He stared down at her, wondering for a moment if there was something she had done, some sort of consequences waiting for her. Her eyes darted back and forth, finally turning back to Nick, and she shrugged her shoulders. "I'm afraid if I go back, I'll never leave. They won't understand why I want to return to the South or even Washington for that matter, and I'll end up married to some lawyer, some professor. It's not the life I want."

Nick leaned back in his seat, mildly amused at her answer and at the idea that a normal life was the thing she dreaded. "Is that all?" She gave him a hard stare in response, not appreciating his dismissive tone. "Well, if that's what you're worried about, what kind of life do you want?"

Her look softened. "That's a much harder question." She shrugged her shoulders once again. "I'm not quite as sure about that. But I know there are going to be certain expectations of me if I go back to Boston. To marry and have children. Start living the life they expect of a nice girl," she answered as her gaze trailed blankly down to the table.

"So back home, were you a nice girl?" She looked up slowly, one brow raised and he hurried to add, "Not that you're not a nice girl now, that is – "

She grinned at him, as always enjoying those moments when Nick became flustered. "I understand. And to the question of whether I've always been a nice girl . . . I suppose that's a yes and no. Certainly, I'm not a bad girl as some would term it and I've normally done what's expected of me, but I've always been rather independent and, from time to time, have left my family wondering what will become of me."

"So, was running off – " He stopped and once again looked around them, considering his words carefully. "When they found out about your work, it was a surprise to them?"

She hesitated, starting to speak, then stopping, obviously searching for the right words. Finally, she turned to Nick, her face dispassionate. "They don't know."

Nick's eyes narrowed and he sat forward. "What don't they know?"

She hesitated again. "They know I went into the South to help with . . ." she hesitated while she looked around to the near tables, "the railroad, but they don't know that I started working with the General."

Nick blew out a heavy breath. "So if we were to show up on your family's doorstep . . ."

She visibly shuddered. "I don't even want to think about it." He sat quietly, waiting for her to say more. "Besides, if we do decide to leave here, we'd reach New York before Boston."

"What or who is in New York?"

"No one I know," she replied cavalierly, "which is why I'd want us to stop in New York."

Nick let out a loud guffaw that caused a couple of heads in the dining room to turn and Kate found herself smiling in response and shaking her head at Nick. "Is that a fact?" he asked. "And I'm guessing a few more cities in between New York and Boston?"

She allowed herself to laugh with him. "Something like that." They sat quietly for a moment before she continued, this time in earnest. "Nick, this is my one opportunity, just as it's yours, to do something for my country and I can't do it sitting in some parlor in Boston. What do I want to do with the rest of my life? That I can't tell you, but I know that what I want to do for now is just what I am doing. And I can tell you one other thing for sure. If we go back to Boston, they won't understand. They certainly will not understand the two of us traveling across the country together. You will not be able to come with me to my family home and expect to be welcomed with open arms and then be able to leave." She glanced down at her hands and adjusted the rings on her finger, glancing up at Nick with a knowing stare. "Not under these circumstances."

"What do you think would happen?"

"Oh, goodness. My father, for all the times he might consider himself to be progressive, can be quite conservative when it comes to his daughter. He will have definite ideas about the amount of time we've spent together unchaperoned and what expectations he has, and I don't think either of us is ready for that."

"Your banker father who's not a banker."

"Bankers aren't the only men who want their daughters close to home."

Nick leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "If you're not willing to go to Boston just yet, well, I guess I can understand that. But we still need to think about going to New York."

"We can think about it." She pursed her lips in a grimace and Nick nodded, feeling he'd made his point when she added, "But it's not going to happen."

Nick leaned forward, ready to argue the point with her but stopped when the waiter stepped to their table, asking about dessert and coffee and he found himself watching as Kate entered a detailed conversation about the merits of the different offerings on the dessert menu, certain she was doing it just to avoid any more discussion about cities further up the seaboard.

Monday morning's paper brought more of the same. Pleas for men to leave the shipyards and foundries and answer their nation's call. Philadelphia had a ready supply of men who had stayed at their jobs at the outbreak of war, the Union needing the iron and steel they supplied, needed the ships they built, but now needed the strong backs used to stoking a furnace, the muscled arms that could just as easily swing a rifle with a bayonet attached to it as could swing a hammer. The desperation ringing in the paper's editorials and the calls of elected officials did nothing to assuage the conscience of the young couple in their comfortable hotel suite, sitting at breakfast as they read the morning's edition.

Back in the suite after breakfast, Kate sipped coffee while she watched Nick's face and mood darken.

Finally, Nick looked over the paper at her, his eyes meeting Kate's. "Kate, we need to talk about what we need to do."

She nodded and answered in a soft voice. "I don't think we have a choice."

Nick let out a sigh of relief, having anticipated a fight with Kate over this. "So now the only question is whether we go today or wait until tomorrow."

"Why would we wait?"

Nick turned to her. "We'll need to pack, get train tickets."

She looked at him, stunned. "Train tickets? What are you talking about?"

"Going to New York. What are you talking about?"

Kate poured herself another cup of coffee, sensing this would not be a quick conversation and took a deep breath to steel herself to the task. "Nick," she began, her voice calm but firm, "I think you should go to regimental headquarters and offer your services. I'll be all right by myself."

He rifled the newspaper still in his hands, folded it back and let his eyes drop back down, dismissing her suggestion. "Oh no. I have my orders and they're to stay with you. Here or New York, those are the choices."

"Nick, if Philadelphia falls and you're sitting with me here or in New York, you'll never forgive yourself."

Without even looking up, Nick answered, "If Philadelphia falls, I won't be here with you, we'll be in New York. We talked about this yesterday."

"Yes, we talked about it. But you have to volunteer here and now. You know you do. They need men with your skills and experience. I don't want you to hold this against me or resent me or think I stood in your way. This is what you need to do. You and I both know it."

This time, he closed the paper and put it down on the table, staring her in the eye, his voice louder, his tone brooking no argument.. "I have my orders."

"And your orders are to do whatever it takes to get me to Washington. Whatever it takes, Nick. Going to New York is going in the wrong direction. For me to get to Washington means the Confederates need to be turned back. And if that means that we offer our services here in Philadelphia, then we need to do that."

"We?" he asked, his voice rising. "What d'ya mean WE?"

"I have experience cracking Southern codes, studying troop movements – "

"Oh, no! You are not getting in the middle – "

"I could work from Union headquarters here in Philadelphia."

"That's the last thing you need to do," he insisted, the volume of his voice rising.

"Why?"

He stood up, the chair rocking behind him. "Why? Right now, no one in this area knows about you. Even if Philadelphia were to fall, no one from the Confederacy knows to look for you around here," he added, sweeping his arm in a grand gesture as he walked across the room. "Mrs. Nicholas Barkley. As far as anyone around here is concerned, you're my wife. You're safe. And yet you want to go let a whole new group of people know what you've been doing?"

She turned in her seat to face him. "What I want is to do the work I'm good at. What I want is to do what I can to help our side win."

"And what? Turn your back on being anonymous? So much for trying to keep your work and your identity secret!"

"If I had to, there are people here in Philadelphia who would hide me. Reverend Furness for one."

"Hide you?! Do you hear what you're saying? No. I am not leaving you and I am not going to let you let people know who you really are and what you've been doing."

She turned back to the table and sat for one moment, resting her chin on her steepled hands, reviewing her tactics before continuing, dropping her voice to a calmer level. "Back in California, two years ago, why did you enlist?"

"What?"

"Why did you enlist? Why did you travel across an entire continent, leave the home and family and life you loved and risk your life by becoming a soldier?"

He didn't bother trying to hide his frustration with her. "Kate - "

"The simple answer, please."

He studied her carefully, figuring anything was better than hearing her talk about letting people in Philadelphia know about her. "There was the question of slavery. The idea of the country breaking apart."

"Oh, Nick," she answered, dismissing him. "You were what? Seventeen? Eighteen when you signed up? Be honest. You thought you could help the Union win." She watched as he mulled over her response. "You thought with your marksmanship and all that you know, you would be a good soldier on the battlefield and you'd help the army win."

He paced across the floor, finally turning to her. "And if I did?"

"How is sitting in this hotel, day after day, going to help? Yes, you have your orders. Orders to do whatever it takes to get me to Washington. But how are you going to get me there if the Rebel Army cuts off Washington from the rest of the Union? If the Rebels capture Philadelphia - "

Nick dismissed her comment with a wave of his hand. "They're not going to get Philadelphia."

"Oh, no?" Kate asked, rising from her own chair, her own voice rising in volume, determined to give as good as Nick. "That certainly seems to be their intention. If they don't want Philadelphia, why is Lee pressing his troops at the Susquehanna?"

"How do you know if he's planning - ?"

"They're pressing their troops because they're going to cross that damned river, try to take Philadelphia, and claim the foundries and the factories and the shipyards as their own. And let's not forget the Union Arsenals."

"They're barely in Pennsylvania and you have them claiming foundries and the Arsenals?!"

"And if they get the Arsenals, their Armies will suddenly be well equipped. And when they get the foundries, they're going to finally be able to make their own guns and their own cannons and their own rails and you better be ready to watch the tide turn. Because Philadelphia can't get enough men to turn out to protect their own city, much less the rest of the country. The one thing the South has is men and the passion of their people. But what the South doesn't have is ironworks and steel and if they get Philadelphia, by God, they'll have those." She stared at Nick as he fell silent and she let her words sink in, then continued in a much softer voice. "And just as Grant wants to take Vicksburg so he can split the South in two, if the South takes Philadelphia, they'll have not only the foundries and the iron works, they'll have cut off Washington. And if they get Washington, if they get Lincoln, if they get the gold in the Treasury, heaven help us."

Nick stared at her, his arms crossed in front of him, one fist at his mouth and he opened his hand, almost in surrender and nodded, knowing she was right. Philadelphia would need every able bodied man and, if what she had just said was right and he knew he should believe her every word, the Union forces could certainly use her mind.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Nick watched as Kate tried to convince the Army brass at Philadelphia headquarters that she worked with General Dodge. The General was so protective of his network of spies that no one but him knew the full details of who they were and where they could be found. The only thing that leant her story any credibility were Nick's orders to get Kate to Washington.

Nick's own volunteering had been easy. Before they left the hotel, he had donned his uniform, complete with shined boots and buttons, and when Nick, an experienced, albeit junior, officer had shown up and offered his services, the Philadelphia senior officers were quick to rescind his previous orders of getting Kate to Washington. Upon learning of his background in leading men not only in the Army but on the ranch, an officer quickly suggested they could use a seasoned officer to lead the new recruits that would create earthworks and fortifications outside Philadelphia. Nick knew what this meant, that they would be digging miles of ditches, turning wood into spikes and burying them to form rows of pikes. Kate watched as he asked if he could have men who were fresh from the shipyards, the foundries or mines, men used to stoking coal and swinging hammers, and her mind followed his train of thought that he would need workers who were used to a hard day's work, men who would know how to use an ax, shovel, or pickaxe would be ready for the task at hand.

But as quick as the Philadelphia officers were to accept Nick's help, they were equally reluctant to accept Kate's. She sat there, recalling code words, translation schemes that had been used by the Confederates, detailing battle strategy and troop movements. While impressed, these officers were still hesitant to accept a woman into their midst. It was only after a corporal walked in, slipping a note to a captain who read it then handed it to a major, that the major looked at her differently for the first time. Turning to the corporal, he ordered, "Bring me the message." Nick and Kate stared at each other, both uncertain as to what he meant, but both hoping that it was a movement in the right direction.

A different man returned, a second captain who handed the major a sheet of paper that he stared at before turning back to Kate. "We captured a rebel scout. He had this and we haven't been able to decode it."

Kate accepted it, knowing this was a test, likely the only one she would get. She let out a heavy breath and asked for paper and pencil. Gazing at the message, different possibilities ran through her mind before she held the paper at arm's length, muttering "It can't be."

Nick glanced at the other men in the room, wondering how much time they would give her. "Can't be what?"

"It can't be this easy."

"Easy?" scoffed the captain who had brought the message.

Kate glanced up, realizing he was probably in charge of their decoding and translation and sensing that they had probably been working on the message for a long time.. She chose her words carefully. "There are multiple layers to the coding, but I've seen it before, just once in Mississippi. It's a simple substitution, one letter for another letter later in the alphabet, but every other word is written in reverse and pushes the substitution a letter forward. This word, here, I believe is Harrisburg. But it's written backwards with a . . . 9 letter shift." The Captain moved to stand over her and watched as she started to recopy the message. She glanced up at him. "Do you have a simple substitution chart?" He looked to the major who waited for a brief moment and then nodded. The captain strode to the door and quickly returned, two other officers following him into the room who both moved to stand near the table, watching as Kate worked quickly. She looked up, her eyes flashing with excitement but her voice remained calm. "Ewell has crossed the Potomac. Hill and Longstreet have followed. Ewell is at Heidlersburg, was looking to Harrisburg, but is concentrating his forces at . . . " She glanced up at the Captain, looking for confirmation of a name that was new to her. "Gettysburg?" He nodded his agreement and she glanced back down, accounting for every letter before standing to hand the message back to the major, the translation completed.

He quickly read the entire message, nodding to no one in particular, then turned to Nick and Kate. "Mrs. Barkley, you'll be working with Captain Carruthers. Captain, Mrs. Barkley has extensive experience with Union and Confederate Army intelligence. Make best use of her talents and skills but if the Rebels break towards Philadelphia, at the first sign of it, she's to be escorted to New York. She is not to be allowed to fall into Confederate hands. Is that clear?" At the ready response, he turned to Nick. "Lieutenant, your wife will be in very capable hands. And you have your orders." Turning away from them, he began issuing directives as the remaining officers in the room turned to a table covered with a map of the area, very quickly engaged in responding to the information in the now decoded message and planning their attack.

Soon thereafter, they stood in Army headquarters as Nick readied to leave for the outskirts of Philadelphia, heading the group of volunteers who would be digging ditches to protect the city. Nick turned to the officer to whom Catherine had been assigned. "Captain, I have your assurance that you'll move her if the Confederacy breaks through our lines? She won't go voluntarily and I don't want the Rebs to take Philadelphia without her having a chance to get out."

"I'll do the best I can, Lieutenant. But if it's any consolation, General Meade's wife is still in Philadelphia, and I don't expect her to go anywhere any time soon."

"With all due respect, the Rebs haven't been looking for General Meade's wife."

Kate laid a gentle hand on Nick's arm. "I'm sure I'll be fine. And if need be, I'll leave for New York, I promise."

Nick raised one eyebrow and gave her a wry smile, saying, "I'll hold you to that," earning a smile from her in return. "When I stop by the Continental to pick up my things, I'll make sure our suite is paid up for another week." Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out his wallet, taking out several bills. "This should tide you over for anything else you need."

She looked down at the money in her hand, astonished at the amount and thought about objecting but stopped herself, knowing Nick would insist on her taking it from him. "I'm sure I'll have whatever I need," she reassured him, "whether it's something for my comfort or for my safety."

He looked down at her, holding her by the shoulders. "I don't like leaving you."

She smiled up at him. "I know, but you have no choice, we both know that."

"You, on the other hand, do still have a choice. Now. I wish you'd take it and go further north. Today."

"I have work to do here, Nick. Just as you do."

He shook his head at her. "Woman, if only we'd been married by that chaplain and I had your promise to obey. I'd put you on a train so fast . . ."

She laughed softly. "Oh, well. I guess you missed that chance."

They turned upon hearing a man clear his throat, seeing an officer standing near. "Forgive me, I don't mean to pry."

"Can I help you, Captain?" Nick asked.

The officer pointed to the insignia he wore, "It's Reverend, Reverend Simpson. I'd heard that you were getting ready to lead men at to build earthworks and were worried about leaving your wife here and I wanted to offer any help I could give. But, just now, I overheard you say that you weren't married by a chaplain." he said, his question implied with his tone.

Nick and Kate exchanged quick glances, Nick coming up with the ready answer. "No, Sir. We, uh, didn't, well, we didn't have a religious ceremony," he answered. Leaving the implication that they were married, he added, "Justice of the Peace." Kate glanced up at him and smiled, impressed at how quickly he came up with an explanation, amused that she might be having an effect on him.

"Ah, I understand. Well then, if you'd like, I could bless your marriage before you go."

"Bless our marriage?" Nick could hear the tremor in Kate's voice, "No, really, it's not necessary."

"Nonsense. For a young couple as yourself, both fighting for Our Union, it would be my honor," he insisted, looking from one to the other as he reached into his leather bag, pulling out a prayer book. "Now, what are your names?"

Kate turned to Nick, her eyes pleading with him to do something, but he merely met her look with a quick sidelong glance as if to say there wasn't much that could be done, then he turned back to the waiting minister and, as Nick answered "Nicholas Jonathon Barkley," Kate could have sworn she heard his voice crack. She forced herself to paste on a smile, standing stiffly at his side. Reverend Simpson saw her swallow hard before she calmly offered, "Kate. Or rather, Katherine. Katherine Barkley. Well, it used to be Katherine Tyler."

The minister looked at them curiously, recognizing their discomfort, then a light entered his eyes and he asked gently, "I assumed you're both Christian. I could offer a Jewish blessing if that would be more appropriate?"

Nick looked down, seeing the sincere smile on Kate's face in response to the chaplain's concern and she shook her head softly, "No, we're both Christian" to which the minister smiled and nodded, saying to the two of them, "If you would hold hands please?" as he paged through his prayer book. He waited for a moment as the couple exchanged a quick look then Kate drew herself tall, lifting her chin, and placed her hand in Nick's and the chaplain placed one hand on theirs in blessing before he began, "Almighty God, the Savior of all men, we humbly commend to thy tender care and sure protection, Katherine and Nicholas, thy servants who have come forth at the call of their country, to defend its government and to protect its people in their property and homes." Nick felt Kate squeeze his hand as she realized that the chaplain was offering a prayer for their work and he looked down at her, noticing the slightest calm wash over her face. In turn, Nick felt himself let go of a breath he didn't realize he was holding as he added his own prayers for their mutual safety. "Let thy fatherly hand, we beseech thee, be over us; let thy Holy Spirit be with us; let thy good Angels have charge of us; with thy loving kindness defend us as with a shield, and either bring us out of our peril in safety, with a heart to show forth thy praises for ever, or else sustain us with that glorious hope, by which alone thy servants can have victory in suffering and death; through the sole merits of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

Kate and Nick both responded with a heartfelt "Amen," but they both stiffened as the prayers continued with "O Eternal God, Creator and Preserver of all mankind, Giver of all spiritual grace, the Author of everlasting life ; Send thy blessing upon these thy servants, this man and this woman, Nicholas and Katherine, whom we bless in thy Name ; that, as Isaac and Rebecca lived faithfully together, so these persons may surely perform and keep the vow and covenant betwixt them made, whereof the Ring given and received is a token and pledge, and may ever remain in perfect love and peace together, and live according to thy laws; through Jesus Christ our Lord.

"For as much as Nicholas and Katherine have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth, each to the other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving a Ring, and by joining hands; I pronounce that they are Man and Wife, In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

"God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Ghost, bless, preserve, and keep you; the Lord mercifully with his favor look upon you, and fill you with all spiritual benediction and grace; that ye may so live together in this life, that in the world to come ye may have life everlasting. Amen."

Closing the prayer book, the minister bowed his head and added his own words. "O gracious Lord, shower your blessings upon this man and woman. We pray that they will one day know the happiness of home, family, and peace. In your name, for this we pray. Amen."

Nick felt Kate's hand tremble in his and he looked down at her, not able to read the expression on her face but he saw her swallow hard before she murmured "Amen" and he took in a deep breath, his own deep voice echoing hers. For one moment, he saw a look in her eyes. Was it fear, trepidation, regret? "Hey now," he said quietly, turning to her and cupping her face in his hand, stroking her cheek with his thumb. He felt a pang go through him, the same regret that he knew she was feeling, mixed with a tinge of guilt for deceiving a chaplain. "Everything will be all right, you'll see," he told her, his voice soft, not certain that he should believe his own words. He glanced to the minister and carefully chose words that could have multiple meanings. "Just a few days and this will be over and I'll get you back to Washington and things will go back to normal."

She took in a slow breath and nodded slowly. "Can I hold you to your promise?"

He chuckled. "You bet."

She shrugged and looked off to one side, noting that several officers in the room were watching them. By the looks on their faces, she knew they were thinking about their own loves, wives, girls left behind and she had no doubt that everyone else in the room had followed the minister's blessing, many offering up their own. Thoughts of protecting their mission, protecting their story flew through her mind and she stretched to place her cheek against Nick's, whispering in his ear, her words urgent, "Kiss me." Dropping back down, she looked up to Nick, the intensity of her gaze letting Nick know that she had issued an order but she softened her look as he lowered his head, his lips meeting hers in a soft, slow kiss.

This was the moment she had cautioned him about back in Vicksburg, a time when they would have to share a convincing kiss in front of others, a moment when others would fully expect a kiss, when it would be completely appropriate to time and place and the story they had created for others to believe. But this kiss was so different from the one before. Their kiss in Vicksburg had been a dare, a test, full of bravado and without care. That was a kiss shared by two actors, two people virtually strangers playing their roles. This kiss, their first since then was anything but. Yes, it was to complete the scene, and normally would have been just the thing to seal the bargain, to let the world know they accepted the blessings of the chaplain and its incumbent challenges, but this was a promise they hadn't intended to make or to keep. During the time they had spent together since that first kiss, they had become . . . friends? Not lovers certainly. They had carefully guarded themselves and maintained a distance, each of them sensing that another kiss could send them into very dangerous territory. Now, as they entered uncharted waters, Nick cradled the back of her head in one hand and wrapped his other arm securely around her back, pulling her to him as he kissed her fully, holding her even closer as her body molded to his and her arms went around him, embracing him, welcoming and deepening the kiss even as her heart clutched.

Kate pulled away fighting to pull air into her lungs, looking down to the floor as she still stood within Nick's embrace, feeling her face growing flush as the blood raced through her body. She fought to keep her thoughts in check and didn't fight the embarrassed smile on her face, looking up first to Nick, then turned to the minister. Stepping back the slightest bit from Nick, she thanked the minister for his blessing and pressed one hand against Nick's back, releasing the pressure when he followed her lead and thanked the minister, saluting him first, then shaking his hand as he murmured "Excuse us, Reverend." Taking Kate by the hand, he walked them down to a spot just down the hall.

The other officers kept their distance and did the best they could to give the young couple a moment of privacy, some of them not able to help noting the way he held her by the shoulders or the serious looks they exchanged. Nick's voice was uncharacteristically hushed as he insisted, "I'm sorry, Kate. I didn't that to happen but I didn't see a way out of it."

Her voice was equally soft as she answered, "I know. When he started the first prayer, I thought we were in the clear. But it will be fine," she assured him, adding, "It's not as if we exchanged vows, right?" As he huffed out a breath in response, she continued, "Nick, if anyone owes an apology, I owe one to you. I feel responsible for your being anywhere close to here. Nick, you've asked me to promise you I'd leave Philadelphia if the Confederates start breaking though. I'm going to ask you to promise me that you'll be careful and come back safely," she told him with a slight smile and with misty eyes. "I'm still expecting you to get me to Washington."

"Like I told you, a few days from now, I'll get you to Washington, and everything will go back to normal."

Kate stared up at Nick and he saw the questions in her eyes. "Normal. How did you fighting in a war and me being a spy get to be normal?"

He stared down at her, his heart aching and he pulled her into his arms, pulling her close, then looked down at her, thinking what their lives should be like at their tender age and he gave her a rakish grin. "Well, if our lives were normal and you were a pretty girl from back home and I was heading out to the trail for a while, I'd try for a kiss before I headed off."

She couldn't help but laugh and shook her head at him. "And what was that earlier?"

Nick shrugged lightly, continuing to grin down at her. "Doesn't count. That was for show."

She sucked in a breath, ready to respond with a quick retort, but instead, for reasons she didn't understand, she stepped toward him and went up on her toes and craned her neck up and they shared a kiss. A long, hard kiss full of promise and longing and want. A kiss of hello and goodbye.


End file.
